The Puzzle Piece
by SuperWhoooCrankThatSouljaBoy
Summary: Must be kind. Must accommodate impossible roommate. Must enjoy handcuffs. John Watson has a seemingly impossible list of needs for a girlfriend. But could the new volunteer at the hospital be the one? John/ OFC (main pairing) Sherlock/OFC (eventual, very slow developing) Explicit smut and BDSM scenes (you've been warned) (Cards on the table, a bit of a Mary Sue)
1. Who's The New Girl?

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock, neither the original nor the modernization. I don't make any money from this.

Chapter 1: John meets Elanor and has some...thoughts.

"Oh nice to see you in! It's been a while, hasn't it?"

John Watson smiled warmly pausing at the nurses' station on his way into the hospital. Before his most recent adventure he'd begun work at a relatively large hospital, one that could do with him disappearing for weeks at a time. The situation was quite wonderful, the hospital got a very well recommended doctor who was willing to come in at a reduced rate, and Watson got a job that would tolerate his unusual schedule. The fact that it was only minutes from the flat didn't hurt. It made never knowing when Sherlock's texts were truly urgent bearable.

It had been a while since he'd been in to the hospital, a whole month to be exact. He'd been off in Wales on a case with Sherlock. A series of mysterious kidnappings that turned out to be a sperm bank donor who had decided he wanted to be a parent after all, and gone about it in rather the wrong way. This would have been decidedly less troublesome for everyone involved had he not been a genuine genius on a level rivaled only by Sherlock Holmes and Jim Moriarty. But as the saying goes, you're only as strong as your weakest link, and children can be very weak links. And so Sherlock was only kept busy for a few weeks, as opposed to a few years. As it was, he was frightfully annoyed about the whole business, a truly acceptable nemesis prematurely defeated by children. Even now John was sure he was at home grumbling about what a bother it was that other people's brains took so long to develop.

"Yes, eh, case with Sherlock."

"Particularly difficult one then?" another nurse chimed in.

"Yes, but no worries. Everyone's safe at home. No one hurt."

"You'll have to tell us all the details later," said yet another nurse, fluttering her eyes.

"Absolutely," he smiled briefly, intending on doing nothing of the sort. John Watson was not unaware of his effect on women. The approachable face, the deep-set eyes, and the ready smile meant he was never at a loss for a date, a fact he had capitalized on since puberty. He loved women. Truly and deeply thought they were amazing creatures. And due to his years as an army medic, he justified that he had some catching up to do. So when Sherlock kept chasing off his girlfriends, he was less than heartbroken. Although, more and more he found himself missing the deep companionship that came with a long term girlfriend. He was able to use his relationship with Sherlock as a bit of a proxy for that closeness he was missing. But he wanted to find that with someone who wasn't so much of a dick….and also didn't have so much of a dick. Because as it seemed necessary to keep reminding people, John Watson was not gay.

"So," he continued brightly, "Did I miss anything important?"

"Well, Mr. Peters was released. And as of last check up is doing quite well. Same with Ms. Levinson, Mr. Walter, and Mrs. Stevens."

"Excellent."

"Ms. Mantle has been kept an extra month due to cardiac complications. She went in for a second surgery. But now she seems stable and is due to be discharged in a couple days. She'll be glad you got back before she left. And…that's it, everyone else is new."

"Oh! We got a new volunteer. She's been good company for the older ones and the kids. She's got a therapy dog she brings in sometimes, so if you run into her don't give her one of your rants on hospital hygenics."

John frowned slightly, "I don't rant Alice, I simply inform patients and their guests that germs and bacterial infections are particularly dangerous to…" he paused taking in the repressed eye rolls of all the nurses, and grinned holding up his hands, "All right, all right. Maybe I do go on a bit."

The nurses smiled. "We know you mean well," Cindy replied.

"True. I'm off then. It was nice to see you all, " he said nodding his head in a military fashion he had never quite gotten rid of. After heading to his office and sorting out the mounds of paperwork that seemed to have accumulated in his absence, he looked at his watch and saw he was due for his first patient in about twenty minutes. After a quick look at their chart, he headed on up arriving just five minutes before he was due. Knocking politely on the partially ajar door, he entered glancing once more at the chart in hand.

"Hello Mr. Cooper, I'm Dr. Wats…on," he said with what he hoped wasn't a terribly obvious stammer.

According to his chart Mr. Cooper had no living family to speak of, he'd never had children, and his wife had passed on a year prior. So John had expected Mr. Cooper to be alone. That wasn't the case. That very much wasn't the case. Next to Mr. Cooper stood a twenty-something blonde with the sweetest face John had ever seen. Milky pale skin, bright green eyes, a snub nose, and kind smile were housed on an adorably round face. She had mass of curly hair down to the small of her back, and…oh god. 'Don't stare at her tits, don't stare at her tits,' John found himself thinking frantically. In his defense though, they were considerable, for a petite girl, damn did she have curves. She must've been several inches shorter than he, and he was not renowned for his height. She had on a pale blue sweater, that only highlighted her paleness, and standard denim trousers, that John was dying to see the outline of her arse in.

He must've missed something. He cast his mind back. Did Mr. Cooper adopt? Maybe she was a part of his church group. Or an extended family member. But grand-nieces didn't often visit their great uncles in the hospital on their own. 'Oh, god, talk you ninny! And stop picturing her naked, you're not wearing the right sort of trousers to be able to get away with that.'

"Um, I'll be your primary physician while you're here. I understand you've been complaining of chest pains?" John managed to make it through the rest of his examination without embarrassing himself, mostly by developing tunnel vision and mentally naming every one of the 326 bones in the body.

He sighed heavily after exiting the room. And showed remarkable self-restraint by getting a couple steps before tearing open Mr. Cooper's chart again. No, no relatives. No adoptions. No, he hadn't missed anything. He told himself it didn't matter how she knew Mr. Cooper, he couldn't hit on her. It was against hospital policy, not to mention if she was related to Mr. Cooper he could get his license revoked. And he might be willing to risk his job at the hospital, but not his ability to practice medicine at all. But that didn't stop his mind from coming up with many highly creative ways which he could throw caution into the wind, and risk his license from dusk until dawn.

After spending thirty minutes in his office working through the necessary forms to discharge Mr. Cooper with the appropriate medicine, and more importantly wrestling his wildly inappropriate thoughts about Mr. Cooper's guest into a box that he told himself could be unlocked the minute he got home, he headed off for his next patient.

Again he rapped on the door before entering, with a cheery, "Hello, Mrs. Lombardo, I'm Dr. Wats…on," he stuttered out for the second time that day. "I…" he frowned. Was she haunting him? What the fuck? The girl in the blue shirt was in Mrs. Lombardo's room too. It was very difficult trying to think of an explanation for this when, the minute he saw her, the box holding all his naughty thoughts sprang open with a vengeance. I wonder if she blushes like that everywhere. How about her skin, does she have any tan lines? What color are her nipples? 'Stop it, stop it, stop it! You are a grown man, you are stronger than this. Metatarsals, proximal, medial, and distal. I wonder what her fingers would feel like around my cock… No! ULNA! RADIUS!"

Luckily for him his stunned silence was taken to mean something else. "Oh, I'm so sorry Dr. Watson, I should've mentioned, that's my dog." The woman in blue said pointing to the dog on Mrs. Lombardo's lap. Dog, there was a dog? Look at the way her tits move when she points…FOCUS WATSON! Dog, okay, dog. There was a dog. Shit, she was talking. "…licensed and hypoallergenic. I asked the nurses to mention it to you. I figured they had when you didn't mention it in Mr. Cooper's room." There had been a dog in Mr. Cooper's room? What had the nurses mentioned? God, it was like thinking through quicksand. Nurses had mentioned patients and…and a new volunteer! With a therapy dog! Okay, good, he was on track now. 'Hey, volunteer…he could ask her out,' he thought brightly. Stay on track. Thank god she's still explaining, he cut her off politely, trying to look as if a light bulb had just come on, and not as if he was thinking about shagging her six ways to Sunday. "Oh! No, no, they did mention it. It's just been a busy first day back. I'm afraid it took me a bit to piece it all together," he said with what he knew was his most affable smile. "You must be the new volunteer," he stuck his hand out to shake hers, and promptly noticed she was holding the aforementioned dog.

She quickly put, what appeared to be a mid-sized mutt down in the chair, and dusted her hands off on her jeans, before shaking his hand warmly, "Yes, I'm Elanor. It's nice to finally meet you Dr. Watson, I've heard nothing but good things. You're a lucky woman Mrs. Lombardo," she said conspiratorially. Right! His patient, god he was such a clod sometimes. "Well," she continued picking the dog back up, "I should actually be going. I leave you in good hands Mrs. Lombardo."

"Thank you dearie. I'll see you next week. Same time I trust?"

"Absolutely. And it was so nice to finally meet you Dr. Watson,"

"You as well Elanor." As she exited, John Watson didn't even try to stop himself from checking out her arse. Good lord it was perfect. Fuck, high, round, and plenty cushy, that settled it, he was asking her out. Meanwhile, job, he had a job!

The rest of his day went as expected. No major hiccups. Before he knew it he was in 221B kicking off his shoes, and glad to find Sherlock not home. He didn't need him analyzing him today. What he needed was a good wank. He headed off to his bedroom shedding his shirt in the process. Though ex-army for some time now, he kept up his physique not only out of principle, but necessity. Being fit came in handy running around with Sherlock who didn't know the meaning of the word 'wait' and had considerably longer strides than he. And having the upper body strength to throw a mean right hook never went amiss either. All of this meant that Watson didn't look half bad with his shirt off, to say the least. Lightly outlined six pack abs, and compact muscle characterized his torso. A long jagged scar, white with age, bit into his left shoulder. And a very small layer of fat, barely disguised the muscles in his arms. With his shirt on, Watson looked every inch the sweet, caring doctor that he was. But with his shirt off, one was instantly reminded that this was an ex military man, and to put it bluntly, this was someone you didn't fuck with. It was a strange dichotomy that Watson exhibited, and perhaps what made him so appealing to women. Actually the fact that he was both caring and assertive in equal parts, was exactly why women flocked to him.

However the truth was, most women didn't know how deep those assertive tendencies ran, and they were often uncomfortable when they found out. You see Watson often enjoyed the BDSM scene. Tying a girl up, spanking her, telling her what to do, all appealed to him very much. Not to mention the after care and cuddling, the need to be wholly in the moment and attuned to his partner's needs, to be a good dominant suited John very well. But the problem for him was finding a girl that would make both a wonderful girlfriend and an excellent submissive. In truth he found it very frustrating. The girls he enjoyed outside of the bedroom, or during vanilla sex (which he also very much enjoyed) ran at the sight of rope and nipple clamps. But the girls who would gladly submit to his hand on their backside, often had no interest in the emotional commitment he was looking for outside of the bedroom, never mind ever wanting vanilla sex. He needed someone like himself, equal parts girlfriend and submissive. In his frustration he found himself introducing the BDSM side of himself earlier and earlier, in an attempt to stop wasting time with women that would eventually reject that side of him. And the fact that his girlfriends also needed to possess the patience of saints where Sherlock was involved didn't help either.

The more he thought of it, the more he despaired of finding anyone. He sighed to himself as he worked his belt off, no need to feel sorry for himself. At the very least the new girl, Elanor, would prove a lovely distraction. Very lovely indeed. He grinned to himself, perhaps he should start subtly testing for submissive tendencies, who knows, she could be the one.

The next day, he headed off to work, making sure to throw on his best shirt, a soft blue sweater, that matched his eyes and screamed touch me. Sherlock had become oddly helpful with his wardrobe over the past few holidays. He didn't know why, and he sure as hell wasn't going to ask. It was bound to be disturbing, so he just took the clothes and said thank you.

The whole day, he kept an eye out for Elanor, and yet he still found himself entirely surprised when he finally ran into her at the end of the day. This might have had something to do with the fact that he literally ran into her. Coming out of his office, headed off to his last patient of the day, he bumped into a woman. 'Oh! Sorry, sorry," he heard, as he grabbed two feminine arms and attempted to take a step back, only to find a cord wrapped around his ankles. He wobbled, just barely managing to stay upright. "Oh! No, Toby!" It was then he became aware of a yipping sound near his ankle. "I'm so sorry, Dr. Watson. He's usually so calm. I think he's just gotten tangled in his cord just give me a minute." He became aware of the woman in his arms wiggling, clearly attempting to figure out a way around something. Finally his head cleared enough, and he looked up, only to immediately wish he hadn't. Elanor. Thanks to her wiggling, and the part she'd played in his rather involved fantasies last night, he immediately found himself naming skeletal parts again. God she smelled good. Vanilla, and pumpkin, he wanted to taste her. God Watson, focus! Get her away from you…also say something. "It's fine, it's fine. Slow down," he said with an affable smile.

She blew out a breath, and giggled up at him, "Okay, we're smart, a cord and a dog isn't going to take us down." And sure enough, after a couple minutes of maneuvering they were free from one another and laughing nervously. Watson could still remember the feel of her soft breasts against him, and knew he'd be rushing home to more involved fantasies as soon as he could. Speaking of which, he was having rather a lot of trouble stopping picturing her on her knees, handcuffed, naked, against a wall, as well as any number of other creative positions. "There," that's better now," she said smiling. Watson frankly disagreed. "Yes, quite," he replied, "Where are you and Toby off to?"

"Mr. Cambert's room, last stop of the day."

"What a coincidence, mine too. Shall we?"

"Oh, how nice. So how has your day been going?"

"Lovely, always glad to be with the patients. How about yours?"

"Oh, wonderful. I always so enjoy being up here. And Toby loves having so many people fawn over him."

"I hear they quite enjoy him as well, and you."

She blushed, "Oh, thank you. They quite love you too you know. Well I'm sure you do. I've been hearing nothing but tales of the brave Dr. Watson since I started here. I'm quite glad to meet the man behind the myth."

"Yes, well. Everyone always expects me to be taller."

She laughed. "If that's their only factual aberration I can expect, then you must be quite extraordinary."

"You'll just have to stick around and find out."

"Oh, I absolutely will. Although I'm afraid you won't see me again for a couple days."

"Really? So what is your double life?"

"I'm a writer, historical novels and mysteries mainly. I actually very much enjoy your blog. The nurses turned me on to it, and I've had to restrain myself from stealing a plot or two from you on multiple occasions."

"Hah! I'll tell Sherlock, that'll make him happy. I think he might rather enjoy it if he were fictionalized. Although it would help me greatly if you never did it, his head barely fits through doorways as it is. Actually," he knew this was a horrible idea as he was saying it, "I could see what I could do about getting you along on a case, if you'd like to come."

"Really?! Oh, my god, that'd be wonderful. Yes, thank you! That'd be great, invaluable actually."

"Wonderful. I'll start talking to Sherlock tonight, maybe I'll have made some headway by the time you get back."

"I'll be very impressed. Based on what I've read on your blog, I'll give you a month to wear him down."

They'd reached Mr. Cambert's room. "That'd probably be best."


	2. No

Disclaimer: Don't own Sherlock. Not making money from this.

Chapter 2: John asks a favor and then blows off some steam. Sherlock interferes and is generally himself.

"No." Sherlock said before John had even taken his coat off.

"What?"

"No."

"No, what?"

"No, I will not do you a favor. No, I do not owe you. No, to whatever you dithered outside about for five minutes. No."

"Sherlock look…"

"No!"

"Jesus, you're petulant sometimes." John angrily hung up his coat, shoving his hands into his pockets, before walking over to the fridge. He punched the number for the new thai place into his phone and ordered the number 11.

"I'll just steal yours." Sherlock said as John shoved his phone back in his jeans.

"What?"

"You didn't order for me because you're angry. You might as well call them back, I'll only steal your food."

"Call them yourself you bastard."

"Why would I order for you?"

"Arg!" John growled yanking his phone back out and placing a second order.

"If it's any consolation I'll do it."

"Call them? Sherlock, I just did."

"No, let your girlfriend come on a ride along. The next time it's convenient anyway, having a female decoy at times could prove useful."

"What the… how…you JUST said no, five minutes ago!"

"That was before I'd seen your sweater."

"My sweater."

"Yes, are you deaf tonight? That is your favorite sweater, but it's too thin for this time of year. So, you're only wearing it because you want to look good. You want to look good for a girl. A girl who's just asked you a favor. A favor that involves me. She hasn't met me, and it's awfully early in the relationship for any sexual favors, so this must be about my work."

"Our…" Watson attempted to interject.

"If she simply wanted to meet me, you wouldn't have asked. You would have brought her by and sprung her on me. If she'd wanted something simple, you wouldn't have been nervous. So, it's something fairly big that you think I'll say no to. She wants to come along. She's not stupid, or you wouldn't be interested. You wouldn't consider having her along if you thought she'd be an utter disaster. So, as flawed as your judgement is, she must be fairly competent. So, I can use her. Besides even if she is somewhat useless, she'll get me back in better form."

"Better form?"

"Haven't you noticed all of my gifts to you have been about making you more attractive? You temper is annoyingly short when you're sexually frustrated. I've attempted to send a couple call girls your way, but they've proved annoying inadequate for you it seems. You never took any of them home. I suspect there's something about your preferences that I've been unable to glean. So whoever has shown up at the hospital in your absence is a welcome addition to your life as far as I'm concerned. Did I miss anything?"

John blew out a breath and closed his eyes calling up all the patience that remained within him. His roommate was trying to get him off so he'd have more patience for fingers in the fridge. Utterly ridiculous. "I offered."

"You offered."

"She didn't ask to come along, I offered."

"You offered. Of course. There's always something."

"Well, I'll tell Elanor when she gets back. She'll be thrilled. She thought it'd take a month to wear you down. Clearly she hadn't counted on your interest in my sex life. I'll be upstairs when the food comes."

John walked heavily up the stairs, still mildly annoyed with Sherlock. But all in all he supposed he'd come out on top. He had an easy excuse to see Elanor, and to see how she'd deal with Sherlock. Little did he know, that chance would come sooner than he'd expected.

The next few days passed uneventfully. Sherlock worked on some small cases on his own. John wrote them up for the blog. He settled back into the routine of work at the hospital. He wore his hand raw thinking about all the things he could do with Elanor. He really hoped she worked out. He hadn't been this infatuated in ages. Maybe Sherlock was right, maybe he did need to get laid. He still couldn't believe Sherlock had sent call girls after him. At least that's what he told himself. In truth it was a very Sherlock way to handle a problem.

Friday rolled around before he knew it, and he couldn't wait to tell Elanor the good news. He got his chance about halfway through the day, just before he was about to head off for lunch. When he ran into her in the hall way, he told her as much and invited her to come with him. She agreed, as long as they ate outside, so that Toby could have a run around in the park. He agreed, and said he'd meet her outside at the tables once he'd run down to the cafeteria to grab a sandwich.

By the time he came outside she was already settled with Toby running off after a rawhide bone she'd just thrown. "Hello," he said brightly settling in across from her. Truly, he'd missed her face more than he'd like to admit. And of course the minute he was across from her again, the thoughts came back. God, he was like a randy teenager. That settled it, he was having a one night stand this weekend. He absolutely needed a good shag.

"Hello."

"So, how'd the writing stint go?"

"Good, I've got a short story I'm finishing up. And then I'm not entirely sure what I want to work on next. I've got several requests, but I'm afraid I'm not feeling hugely inspired. I'll just have to hope, that by the time I'm through with this project, something will spark."

"Well, it seems I've got good news on that front."

"Really?"

"Yes, Sherlock agreed. On the next convenient case, we'd love to have you along. He might even use you for a part, if you'd be up for that."

"Oh, yes! That's wonderful! Wow, you must be a better negotiator than I'd ever imagined."

"You have no idea."

She giggled and blushed. "Oh, I'm so excited. This will be such a great adventure."

"Absolutely. So, aside from my wonderful news how has your day gone."

"Good. Quite good. Mr. Cambert's doing well, as I'm sure you know. There's a sweet woman who just gave birth in room 522. And there was the oddest man today, who came in for dehydration."

John felt a tingling at the back of his mind, and was immediately very curious. Even though he feared he already knew who that patient was.

"Odd? Odd how?"

"Well he was quite young, thirties I'd say, but he was nosy in a way that old lady's are usually nosy. You know what I mean. So many questions, about me, my personal life, quite frankly he made me blush."

"Really?"

"Oh, don't look at me like that John, I don't think he meant any harm. I think some people are just that way. He just didn't have the best grasp of what's appropriate. I never could work out if he didn't know, or just didn't care. But he was harmless really. Just, odd."

"What did he look like?"

"Oh, tall, lanky, red hair and a mustache. Very high cheekbones. A bit strange looking if you ask me. I'm not sure if that's really his face as much as his mannerisms though. He looks at people oddly. Not just me, the dog, the doctor, he looks as if he's…I don't know…taking photographs of people with his eyes."

"That's exactly what he's doing." John's hands were clenched into fists. He was so pissed off right now.

"I'm sorry what?"

"Excuse me, I'm going to go kill him." He said standing up. "What room is he in?"

"Umm, he was discharged about an hour ago. I'm sorry, how do you know this guy? Is everything alright?"

John blew out a breath, and closed his eyes in a way that was only ever necessitated by Sherlock's behavior. Really, this time he was going kill him. "That was Sherlock."

"What? I…how… you can't know that."

"Oh, yes I can. Excuse me, I'm going home. Please let the nurses know, I've gone home early." He began to walk off, hands still clenched muttering obscenities under his breath. Elanor, immediately got up chasing after him, and grabbing his arm.

"Whoa, hold on a second. It's fine, he didn't do anything. He was just weird."

"He was spying on you Elanor. He lied, invaded your privacy, and _spied_ on you."

"Look, John, it's fine. Really. I'm sure he was just making sure I wasn't a nut or something before he let me come on a ride along."

John smiled, it seemed she passed the tolerance of Sherlock test even better than he did. But then, the night was young, as they say. But still, none of his previous girlfriends would have reacted this way. "Elanor, that's very sweet of you. Really. And I'm not going to actually kill him. It's just…with Sherlock you have to draw lines. There's a good chance that he'll cross them anyhow, but it'll at least give him pause. I really do have to go home. And I really do have to draw this line with him. He cannot come in and mess with you."

Elanor smiled, still holding his arm, and gave it a squeeze. "You know I do believe this is the first time anyone's defended my honor."

John leaned in and pecked her on the cheek, "I assure you it won't be the last."

And with that, he walked off back home to confront Sherlock. Because even though he'd calmed down for her temporarily, he was still incredibly brassed off about his roommate's behavior. He was definitely going to give Sherlock a piece of his mind.

"That was out of order." John fumed slamming the door behind him. The walk home had given him time, to work himself back into a furor over Sherlock's complete lack of boundaries. "I cannot believe you came down to the hospital to interrogate Elanor. That you would lie to me and her, and trick her into revealing personal information to you is completely out of line. I put up with a lot of things on your behalf. Your indifference, your cruelty, but to strangers Sherlock, not to my romantic interests. You've never done anything like this to any of my other girlfriends. The worst you do is forget their names. You don't invade my place of work and make them uncomfortable. And before you say anything. No, I do not care what you found. I don't want to hear it."

Sherlock raised a brow, "Are you sure about that?"

"Positive. You jackass!"

"Are you done?"

"If you agree never to do anything like this again."

"Hmm, I could but I'd be lying."

"What the fuck Sherlock? You know I ask very little of you…"

"This would not be little for me."

"Oh, no?"

"Restraining my curiosity, about not only a potential temporary flat mate, but a person who is supposed to be part of future investigations; an offer which I revoke by the way; is not only entirely against my nature, but dangerous as well."

Watson just sat there staring at him dumbly for a moment, "So you have absolutely no intention of listening to anything I just said."

"Quite the contrary, I listened intently. I am simply electing not to do what you have said. In either case it is a moot point in this particular case as it will not come up again. I strongly advise you against dating Elanor."

"I, I'm sorry what?"

"She is incompatible with you, and will further your sexual frustration, which judging by your current behavior is already at a fever pitch. I find this a distasteful option and so I advise you not to date her."

"Excuse me, how the fuck are we incompatible. And my anger at you has nothing to do with me needing to get my rocks off!"

"I thought you had no interest in hearing what I learned."

Watson pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well I didn't think you were going to try and kick her off the case, and offer strongly worded dating advice. I know how much of a pain you can be if you put your mind to it. So my best route is to convince you that you're wrong. And I can't argue with what I don't know. So here," he rocked back and forth widening his stance, and putting his hands on his hips, "Lay it on me."

Sherlock regarded him warily, "She would make you wait too long for sex."

"Agh, come on Sherlock, this again. I'm a big boy, I can handle a bit of waiting."

"3 months for sexual intercourse, 5 for beginning a slowly introduced dom/ sub relationship. And she would be greatly averse to you cheating. I would be amenable to helping you do so in a way she would never find out, but I somehow suspect it would clash with your moral code."

"Once again Sherlock, big boy, I can handle a wait."

"Not in a way that wouldn't effect me. Furthermore, despite being mildly aware of her own submissive tendencies, she has never engaged in such a relationship, you would have to break her in." Heat flared in John at the thought. Training a brand new sub? Oh, god would that be an experience.

"Hmm, John, I never would have thought you so traditional. Perhaps that was what I was missing with the call girls. What you truly want is to corrupt a good girl. Well then, I suppose my next negative becomes a positive then. She has only ever slept with two men."

"Two?! Her?!"

"Two. Her." Sherlock seemed to contemplate something. "John, if you would agree to go on a sexual 'binge' so to speak for the next week. This might work. I may find her acceptable."

"Wait, so those were your only problems."

"The others were slight, and now largely moot in view of your traditional nature."

John sighed. "Well I suppose as long as you're on board. I was going to call up some old friends, and take care of myself this weekend anyway. I guess I'll call up a few more in view of my coming wait. I'm still right pissed off at you for the record."

"Highly illogical of you, in view that I was attempting to help. And might I add am now a wealth of information that would be useful to you."

"Fuck off, I can take care of this myself. And I don't care what your intentions were. I'll talk to you again in a week. And I swear to god, if I find out you've sent any call girls my way…"

"Are you certain? Now that I know…"

"No Sherlock!"

"I know one that looks remarkably like Elanor."

And although John replied, "Fuck off Sherlock," as he stormed off to his room. Sherlock noted a distinct hesitation, and smiled.

"Fuuuuck," John groaned rolling off Alice, his third conquest of the weekend. It was Sunday, and he'd spent the past couple days burying his face, cock, and hands in pussy, over and over again. Christ he really did love women. He didn't think he'd ever get sick of exploring their curves. He rolled back over and wrapped an arm around his most recent lover, pressing kisses to the back of her neck.

She giggled, "John, I didn't think I'd ever say this to a guy, but give me a second."

"Mmmm, but you feel so good," he moaned trailing his fingers lower.

"John! I can't. I just came. Oh god!" She cried out, clasping her hand around his wrist, as his fingers reached between her lower lips.

He smiled against her neck, "You sure about that?"

"Oh god! Oh god how do you do that?!"

"That's for me to know and you to find out." As John coaxed Alice to another screaming orgasm, he was amazed that he still felt unsatisfied. Oh, sure, he felt a heck of a lot better after a couple rounds of sex, but his mind kept drifting back to Elanor with increasing desire. Maybe Sherlock was right, maybe he wasn't going to be able to handle waiting for her. God how it chafed him to think that. If nothing else, he was disciplined. And honestly, being unable to wait a few measly months for sex? But still… And he found himself further frustrated with the fact that he kept thinking about Sherlock's offer of a prostitute who was a dead-ringer for Elanor. He knew it was wrong, but he was curious none the less. Curious and turned on. No! Bad Watson! Just, stick with the plan, fuck like crazy for a week, then take Elanor on a case. He knew Sherlock was lining one up. He felt slightly wary about what type of case he would choose. But he had to admit, whatever he chose would most likely help him with Elanor in the long run.


	3. Undercover Operation

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock. I also don't own John (more's the pity). And no money is being made from this fic.

Chapter 2: Elanor helps with the sting operation. The smut begins!

As the week came to a close, John managed to avoid giving into Sherlock's offer, much to Sherlock's chagrin. He had been so sure he would come to him Monday after returning to work and seeing Elanor. But John remained steadfast, and Sherlock so disliked being wrong. John had in fact come quite close to caving on Monday. Seeing Elanor again after all the sex he'd been having, had been incredibly difficult. He prided himself on being a gentleman, but all he'd wanted to do was touch her. He ended up quickly mentioning that Sherlock thought he'd have a case she could come along on on Saturday, exchanging numbers, and then ducking her for the rest of the week. It was only the thought of how much he truly enjoyed Elanor's company that kept him from going to Sherlock. He simply couldn't do that to her. That's not to say he didn't pick up a curvy, green eyed, blonde from the bar. Even John didn't have perfect control.

As Friday rolled around, John felt as close to sated as he had in a long while. Talking to Elanor at the end of the day about where and when to meet him and Sherlock (8pm, at 221B) and other various sundries (what to wear, what it was usually like, etc.) was mildly difficult, but he found himself able to think straight. And so, being actually able to pay attention to her face, he caught traces of fear there. "Are you all right with this? I mean, are you sure, I know it's a lot…"

"No, no I'm fine I just…butterflies you know. I've never been along on any of these things before."

"I know, you'll be great though! I've told Sherlock not to pick anything to dangerous. And I'll be there, I promise to look out for you." He smiled kindly, hunching his shoulders towards her protectively. "Besides, working for Sherlock, it's only 30% chases, and murderers, most of the time it's travel and walking around in fields trying to get people not to punch Sherlock."

She laughed, some of the tension leaving her face. "OK. I really am excited too. The idea of getting to see all this. Do you happen to know what kind of case we'll be working on."

"Sherlock's actually been quite close-mouthed on that front." John frowned to himself, Sherlock withholding information was never a good sign. But he was still amazed Sherlock was tolerating Elanor, so he didn't want to push it. "Look, how about we go get some dinner, and I'll talk to you about some old cases, maybe that will put you at ease, eh?"

"Yeah, yeah, that actually sounds like a great idea. Just let me run Toby home."

"I've got some paperwork to do here, just meet me in my office when you get back." John wasn't particularly thrilled about Elanor meeting Sherlock before she had to. Perhaps it was because of the fact that no past meetings between Sherlock and girls he liked had gone well, but he had a creeping feeling that somehow Sherlock was going to screw with his relationship.

Within the hour Elanor was back, and they were off to dinner. She'd changed into a rather fetching, but still demure dress. And with her measurements, demure was hard to pull off. Their dinner went well. Watson fell harder and harder for her the more time they spent together. She was calmed by his tales of the job (no need to tell her he picked the tamest cases he'd worked on). But he did trust Sherlock not to throw Elanor into the deep end, at least not on purpose. At the end of the evening, John reminded her that Sherlock would be conducting his own training tomorrow, and briefing her on the case. And although she'd most likely just end up sitting in a car, good running shoes wouldn't go amiss. And then he put her in a cab, and said he looked forward to seeing her again tomorrow.

Tomorrow came quite quickly, but 6pm seemed to take forever to get there. Sherlock continued to stay mum on the particulars of the case, and John grew more and more worried that allowing Sherlock complete freedom in case choosing had been a bad idea.

At a quarter till John found himself almost regretting having Elanor along, a sentiment future him would most certainly agree with. And then the bell rang. John rushed downstairs, because there was no way he was going to let Sherlock answer the door. He needn't have worried, because Sherlock took the bell ringing as his cue to go fetch Elanor's dress from his bedroom.

John answered the door to a dressed down Elanor, with cargos, nikes, and a t-shirt. "Hello! Come on in."

"Hi. How are you?"

"Good," he said, leading her up the stairs, "Although, let me apologize in advance for anything Sherlock says."

"Ha, thanks. I think I've prepared myself."

"That's what they all say," he muttered opening the door.

"Ah, Miss Elanor. So nice to meet you,"

"Again," she interjected.

"Again," he agreed, "May I sincerely apologize for my meddling earlier, I was simply looking out for the interests of this case."

"It's fine I understand. I really do appreciate you having me along. So what is this all about?"

"Ah, excellent. Have a seat won't you." While Elanor was relaxed by Sherlock's easy demeanour, John was immediately suspicious. Sherlock being nice meant he wanted something. And all John could think was that that was not good.

John kept a close eye on Sherlock as he explained his own personal rules for cases, and the case itself. It seemed that there was an underground swingers club, and several of their more high profile members had cropped up missing. Sherlock suspected an inside member was a serial killer bent on punishing what he or she saw as deviant. Sherlock needed to get inside the club, and scout out who that likely was. "And that's where you come in Elanor."

"Whoa! 'That's where you come in Elanor' what?" John interjected loudly.

Sherlock blinked feigning surprise, "Well surely we need a girl to get into the…"

"Wait, she's playing a role in this?! I thought we agreed, first case, no murderers, and no involvement, only watching."

"Well, this case was important, and we needed a girl so…"

"Oh no! You knew, you knew! I wouldn't approve. That's why you've refused to share case details with me!"

"I did think you might have a slight aversion to…"

"No Sherlock, no, she is not doing this. Whatever, this is. Elanor I am so sorry. I thought I'd made it quite clear to him…"

"John," she said gently placing her hand on his arm, "It's okay." She swallowed, looking up at him. "I want to help."

"There John see…"

"Shut up Sherlock! Elanor, it's your first case. He knows you're sweet, and he's taking advantage of that. I don't want you thrown in the deep end your first time out."

"John, I've read your blog. Even with all your soft-ball stories the other night, I knew what I was getting into. Really. It's sweet that you want to look out for me. But is doing this tonight really anymore dangerous than doing it a couple months down the road."

"Honestly, I hoped you would have bailed by then."

"Well I won't. And if this means I get to help people sooner, then so be it."

"He doesn't have good intentions Elanor. He…"

"I know, but I do. I know someone else could do whatever he has planned but I want it to be me."

Watson paused for a moment, searching her face, "Alright."

"Excellent! Here's the plan. I've gotten in contact with some members of the club, and expressed interest in bringing myself and a couple I know to tonight's event. I have earpieces and microphones for all three of us. But basically, the plan is this. All three of us enter, John, you and Elanor, dance on the floor, play up acting like you two are a couple. Some kissing would not go amiss. Meanwhile, I'll prowl the area, I know what I'm looking for. Once I've found it, I will return to the two of you, and use you as bait for the killer. Lestrade and his boys will be waiting outside. Once the bait is taken, and enough incriminating evidence has been gathered, I will send them in. The car ride to the party's location is an hour long, specifics will be discussed along the way. In the meantime, we need to start getting ready. Elanor, I have ascertained that the type of dress required was not in your wardrobe, so I have taken the liberty of providing one for you." He said nodding to the dress on the door. Elanor stared at it, she certainly did not have a dress like that in her wardrobe. Even on the hanger she could tell that it was short. It was black and stretchy with a sweetheart neckline and thin straps. John was dumbfounded by the dress as well. Oh god, he was going to kill Sherlock. "Shoes, toiletries and cosmetics have also been provided in the bathroom on this floor. If you would." He said gesturing to the dress and bathroom. Elanor got up, slightly shakily John noticed, went and took the dress off the door, went into the bathroom and shut the door. "You have two hours, Elanor," Sherlock shouted after her.

The minute the door was shut John leaned in closer to Sherlock and hissed "I am going to kill you!"

Sherlock's normal impassive face returned. "No you are not, I am helping you. A fact you are once again too dense to acknowledge."

"I think by dense, you mean, moral, Sherlock. I see what you're doing, you're forcing this girl to go through adrenaline to make her more attracted to me. And giving me an excuse to not only kiss her early, but unless I'm much mistaken, get in some dry humping as well."

"I was going to emphasize the type of dance expected at a place like this."

"You are unbelievable, absolutely, unbelievable."

"John, you may not believe me when I say this. But, aside from helping move along your relationship, this could truly save lives. I need a couple to get in. I need you to be a part of that couple. And truth be told, you're a shit actor when it comes to attraction."

"No, no. There's another way to do this."

"Truly I say to you there is not. Now go get your shower. Once we are all ready, if you honestly believe you cannot go through with this, then you can tell Elanor, and I will offer up no resistance. Otherwise, you can quit. Elanor and I can go together. And it will be far more dangerous, and far more uncomfortable for her."

"Fine," John growled, stomping up to shower.

Two hours later, John and Sherlock sat in the downstairs living room waiting on Elanor. Sherlock had clearly gone for the bad boy look. He was dressed in leather pants (which would have looked ridiculous on anyone else, but looked fuck-hot on him) and a black tee. While John was dressed far more approachably in black jeans, and a while button up rolled up at the elbows. He had finally come around to Sherlock's way of thinking, admitting that in the end, his plan was for the greater good. Even if his motives were questionable. And any doubt John had instantly evaporated the minute Elanor walked out.

She had her hair done in large flowing waves. Her eye-makeup was done much more heavily than John was used to. But it did make her eyes sparkle, even from across the room. And then there was the dress. Fuck! That dress. It hugged her every curve, and came down to a scant couple inches below her ass. Sherlock had clearly provided her with undergarments as well, as her bust was pushed up and swelling over the top of her gown. Looking down further, John saw she had been outfitted with fuck-me red stilettos, that likely brought her even with his height. John couldn't stop staring, his mouth hanging open. Sherlock recovered first. "So, shall we go?"

John nodded dumbly as Sherlock made his way to the door. John was the last out locking up. Following Elanor down the stairs, he couldn't take his eyes off of her perfect ass. Good lord, it was high and round, and perfectly full. John kept picturing himself taking her over his knee and spanking her. God, he was already getting a hard on. He discretely tucked himself into the waistband of his underwear just as Sherlock reached the landing. "Sherlock, go call us a cab. Elanor and I will be out in a minute, there's something I need to discuss with her. Sherlock nodded, and ducked out the door.

Elanor and he in short order reached the landing. John took her hands in his. "Elanor, you look amazing. Completely gorgeous. And you are so brave to be doing this." He reached over and cupped the side of her face.

"Thank you John, that's so sweet of you."

"It's true. And I know we're expected to play a couple tonight. And I was wondering if you'd like to continue being a couple, even after this case is over."

"Oh John. Yes, absolutely." She smiled John leaned in and kissed her softly. He felt a jolt of electricity run through him. Yes, she was the one. With great effort, he pulled back.

"There, I didn't want our first kiss to be in a swinger's club. And just know, tonight, do whatever you can to make us believable, it won't change our relationship."

"Okay," she smiled sweetly, "I'll dance it up then! You're in for some fun, I used to take belly dancing and hip hop classes."

John smiled back, "So you can shake it then?"

"Oh, I can shake it."

They were leaning in for another kiss as they heard honking outside. "Showtime!" She smiled brightly.

Oh god could she shake it. John thought it would be a miracle if he got through this night without coming in his pants. He pressed kisses to the back of her neck as she rolled against him in response.

They had gotten in with no problems. Their fake id's and Sherlock's story passing easily. With little ado, John led Elanor to the dance floor as Sherlock took off. The party was essentially a nightclub, only with slightly more debauched and risqué acts occurring off and on the dance floor. Sherlock had been right, they were going to have to grind and make-out just to fit in. For the first couple minutes of dancing, Elanor had been stiff, clearly nervous. So John had suggested a drink, just one, to loosen up. Elanor ended up downing two, and turned adorably tipsy.

John led her back to the dance floor, where she was a bit more touchy, but still stiff. Trying to pinpoint what was going on, John remembered what Sherlock had said about her. Good girl, with submissive tendencies. Alright, he could work with that. "Elanor," he leaned in and said in her ear, "It's alright, this is to help some good people. I won't judge you. I need you to be a bit…well…sluttier." Apparently, those were the magic words. She loosened up visibly and began rolling her hips against his, wrapping her arms around his neck.

But he could still tell she was holding back. Figuring she needed a little more encouragement, he grabbed her arms in a tight grip, and spun her around forcefully, pulling her against him and grinding his erection into her. Moving his hands to her hips, he pulled her in closer and growled into her ear, "Dance for me, Elanor." That was it.

She moaned, and tipped her head back into his shoulder. Her hands came down to cover his as she did a full body roll against him pressing tightly into him. "That's it. Good girl." She moaned again and pushed her ass back into him. Oh, was he ever going to have fun training her, 5 months his ass.

And so they continued for 30 minutes, dancing and grinding. John frequently kissed her neck, and mumbled barely disguised PG-13 dirty talk. Elanor rolled, and shook, and even once bent down and touched her toes, flipping her hair on the way back up, John was going to treasure that image for a long while. In the meantime, Sherlock prowled amongst the crowd, looking for…whatever Sherlock looked for. At least that's what John assumed. His earpiece had been silent all night. Which he supposed was a good thing, Sherlock would have surely complained if he or Elanor were doing something wrong. Actually, speak of the devil. John heard a crackle in his ear.

"John, Elanor, step it up. I'm about half through surveying the crowd, and you two have done nothing but dance for a half hour."

Normally John would have rolled his eyes in annoyance, but he was too busy being excited about "stepping it up," with Elanor. Obediently, she executed a lovely turn with a roll of her hips and pressed herself against Watson's chest.

Trailing a hand up from her waist, he cupped her face and leaned in. Her lips were just as sweet as he'd remembered. And he felt the same electricity jolt his spine. After a few moments, he swiped his tongue against the seam of her lips, asking for permission. She immediately complied, and he savagely explored her mouth. She replied with a needy whimper and melted into him. He knew immediately he would be replaying that little whimper in his mind over and over. The whimper begged for more, and he gave it to her. Using all of his considerable kissing experience, he made sure she'd never want to part from his lips again.

As she came up for air with a breathy, "Wow," he returned both hands to her waist pulling her closer, where she started to grind again, and trailed open mouthed kisses down to her collar bone and back up. During their second make out session, Watson decided that if he was going to be unbearably horny, so was she. Using his right hand, he grasped the underside of her thigh, lifted, and placed it on the outside of his leg. So now as she ground, her pussy rode his leg. He felt the immediate, involuntary squeeze of her legs as she realized this. She stilled slightly, clearly uncertain. John decided she needed another command. In what Alice called his deadly calm voice he whispered in her ear, "Elanor. Move." And like the good girl she was, she obeyed.

She began to grind herself onto John's leg, as they kissed. He could feel her moaning in his mouth, feel the heat of her pussy on his leg. She broke their kiss, throwing her head back, "John!" She ground down harder. He moved his hands down to her ass. God it felt good. He squeezed and brought her closer, beginning to guide her movements. Meanwhile he leaned down and sucked what he had identified as a sensitive spot on her neck. She gripped his shirt tightly, and called out louder, "Oh god! John!" Oh she was getting close. He could see her flushing. He wanted nothing more than to see her cum. Suddenly he felt a body press against the back of his hands. Shit. He felt Elanor stiffen. He pulled her in protectively, and looked up to see…

"Sherlock!" He felt Elanor relax.

"Shhh. Keep dancing."

"Sherlock, couldn't this have waited five minutes," John hissed annoyed.

"Honestly no, Elanor keep moving," Elanor obeyed, and the three of them danced together as Sherlock explained. "You two were doing a bit too good of a job. You were drawing attention. You were about to have far more persistent company, that was not me, which I suspect neither of you would have welcomed. I've found our murderer. And we'll go talk to him after one thing. Elanor, I want you to cum."

John saw Elanor blush and stiffen. "Wh-What?"

"Cum, you were about to with John. Our suspect is watching, and we need to make you as irresistible as possible."

"She's irresistible enough. God, Sherlock you can't…"

"She is, but our suspect is on the fence. They are slightly suspicious of us. Threesome couples are unusual, especially ones with two men. We need to not only make Elanor irresistible enough to sway their better judgement, but it needs to happen while I am here, so they are convinced we are truly a threesome. To that end, Elanor, you and I have to kiss. Convincingly."

John frowned, definitely not liking this turn of events. "Elanor, you don't have to do anything you…"

"No, John, it's okay." She was looking up at him with eyes still tinged with lust. "It's a bit, embarrassing but… you're sure you don't…"

"God no, seeing you about to cum, is the hottest thing I've ever seen. And remember, no judgement."

She nodded, "Okay."

"Excellent, it's decided." And with that, Sherlock bent down and began kissing her neck, as his hands began to roam her body. Elanor ground herself between the two men, as John claimed her mouth in a searing kiss.

"Fuck!" Elanor broke it off, and John latched himself to the side of her neck opposite from Sherlock. Both of the boys were quickly mapping out every single one of her sensitive points, and she thought she was going to fly apart into a million pieces at any moment. "Oh god, oh god, oh god!" she began to chant as she ground down harder. After all the rumors surrounding Sherlock's celibacy, she was shocked to find him hard and ready against her ass when she ground back.

"That's right let go. You wanna cum for me?" John growled licking her ear.

She grasped John's shirt in one hand, and the back of Sherlock's head in another.

"Yes, yes! Oh god, oh please yes!"

Sherlock began to grind harder against her, sending her more firmly into John's leg. She gripped a fistful of Sherlock's hair, and trailed her other hand to John's back pocket, grabbing his ass in an attempt to pull him closer.

"Ah! Ah!"

"That's it," John affirmed.

"Dirty girl," she heard Sherlock mutter into her neck.

"Oh my god! Ah! Oh my god! Sherlock! John! Please so close!"

"Cum for us." Then John claimed her mouth in a kiss. Within seconds, Elanor hit her peak, and came shaking against the two men. She broke the kiss with John off for the last time, as she dropped her head to Sherlock's shoulder, and arched into John screaming.

"Oh god! Oh god! Of fuck oh yes! Aaaaaaah!"

She heard Sherlock mumble "God yes," into her neck, and felt John's eyes upon her as she came undone. After several seconds, she came back down, breathing heavily. She turned her dazed eyes to John, who pulled her in for a sweet kiss. "That was beautiful."

"Excellent job," Sherlock whispered, "The man who can resist that is made of iron."

She felt both the boys still hard against her, and felt a brief pang for not being in a position to fix their situation. Instead she settled for a sincere thank you to both of them. And turning around, she tilted her face up to Sherlock for a kiss.

Sherlock caught on immediately and leaned down to meet her. His lips were passionate on hers, and she immediately melted into him. His tongue found hers, and his hand wove into her hair. "Oh Jesus," she thought, "Moriarty's nickname for Sherlock is highly unfounded." A couple leg-weakening minutes later, Sherlock pulled back from the kiss. After a surreptitious glance at the target he whispered in her ear "Time to go."


	4. Taxi Rides Can Be Educational

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock in any of its many permutations. Neither do I make any profit from this story.

Chapter 4: John is possessive and then confused. Sherlock continues to be nosy.

Less than an hour later, Elanor found herself perched on the back of a squad car with an orange blanket wrapped around her (since her outfit wasn't exactly built for warmth) being introduced to D.I. Lestrade.

"Elanor, lovely name. We should be finished with your boys in just a moment. Excellent of you to help out. So how do you know Sherlock? I wasn't aware he actually knew girls existed."

"Oh, actually I know John. He and I…"

"Well speak of the devil," Lestrade said as John appeared beside Elanor, proprietarially wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Yes, thank you Greg. I think we're done here." Sure enough moments later Sherlock arrived.

"Ah well, lovely to meet you Elanor. Will we be seeing you on any future cases."

"Oh, I don't know."

At the same time John said, "I'll let you know Greg. Are you ready to go dear?" he hugged Elanor closer and pecked her on the cheek.

"Sure, yeah," she hopped down off the police car, slightly confused at John's behavior. He was acting quite icy to someone she thought was a friend of his.

"Here's your blanket back. Let your team know I'm thankful."

"No, you keep it. Bit nippy out to be running around in a dress like that."

Elanor felt John tense beside her. So she said a quick thank you, and headed with Sherlock and John back to the main street to catch a cab.

The three of them had barely settled into the back seat of a cab before John was all over Elanor. Elanor's surprise was quickly over taken by lust, as John used all of his considerable talent to take her breath away. She distantly heard Sherlock mutter "John, stop marking your territory," or she would have if she had any brain cells left.

"Shut the fuck up, Sherlock," John muttered against Elanor's neck. "Sherlock, hmmm Sherlock….Sherlock!" Elanor thought. "Stop, John. Stop," she said, pushing him back gently, "What the heck has gotten into you?"

"You were shown off in front of a murderer. Lestrade was clearly ogling you. You had an orgasm in front of half a club full of people. And you kissed me, although that doesn't bother him quite like he thinks it should. Suffice to say John's feeling a bit proprietorial."

John huffed out a breath, rolling his eyes up as if praying for patience. Elanor placed her hand on his chest. "John, it's fine. It's you I want. And I actually think it's quite sexy you wanting to make sure I'm yours." John smiled and leaned back in for another kiss. She put her hand on his chest, "But I do think we should hold off on making out in the back of a cab," her eyes slid over to Sherlock and she blushed, "Especially right next to your flatmate." She could have sworn she hear Sherlock mutter something, but it was eclipsed by John's comforting "C'mere," as he slung his arm over her shoulder and pulled her back flush against his front. He kissed her gently on the cheek. "You did wonderfully tonight. And you have nothing to blush about." Elanor smiled warmly, John truly was an incredibly sweet man. Although her smile faltered a bit when she saw Sherlock studying her with a look in her eyes that she couldn't quite place. Her attempt to solve the puzzle of Sherlock's expression kept her occupied hours after she left the boys.

John called her to set up a date the next day. They were going out next Friday. "Something simple," he told her, "I figure you need a break after the excitement of last night."

She reassured him that last night had been amazing and thrilling. But she also agreed that something low-key would be a nice change. John caught her up on the police's handling of the case. And they talked a bit about the night before. Although the topics of her public orgasm, her kiss with Sherlock, and making out in cabs were thoroughly avoided. This was a fact she was frankly glad of. She was still processing, and while she trusted John was true to his word in not judging her, she was still having a hard time not judging herself. She usually moved quite slowly with men. Last night was out of character to say the least. She felt that she shouldn't have liked it but… she did. The way John touched her, it set her on fire. He was firm, his military training certainly showed through, but at the same time he had a gentleness that came to the fore whenever she was feeling uncertain. And she had had a lot of uncertain moments last night. The problem was on the other side of that uncertainty had lain enjoyment. She had never thought of herself as an exhibitionist, but she had enjoyed cumming in the club. And she'd always thought being with two men at the same time would be overwhelming, and all about ego, and frankly uncomfortable. After dancing between Sherlock and John, she began to suspect she was wrong, at least in the case of these two men. Then when she remembered how it felt, writhing between Sherlock and John, she felt guilty. Sherlock was John's best mate, and she had not only kissed him, but had gotten off grinding on his cock, and furthermore she kept thinking about it. Really she felt less guilty than she thought she ought, even Sherlock had mentioned it didn't bother John like he thought it should.

Then there was the dirty talk, John's aggressive side, and his possessiveness. She'd never known she was turned on by any of those things. But having Sherlock and John give her orders, and then whisper in her ear what a dirty girl she was, turned her on to no end. Honestly after last night, it was going to be hard to go slow with John. She hadn't been able to get her mind out of the gutter all day, and she didn't think tomorrow was going to be much better.

"You're welcome." Sherlock said tossing his coat across the couch.

"For what?" John asked following suit.

Sherlock fixed him with that gaze he gave John when he thought John was being dull. "One month general access. Two months domination."

"Sherlock you're going to have to be more specific," John said rubbing either side of the bridge of his nose.

Sherlock arched a brow. "Instead of the previously estimated three months until Elanor was willing to have sex with you, and five months until it was safe for you to introduce her to BDSM, after the events of last night I estimate one month until she will sleep with you and two until you can introduce her to BDSM." He stared pointedly at Watson, "You're welcome." He flopped down in his chair.

Watson didn't reply, but as he sat down with his book, he smiled to himself. One month. One month and he would have Elanor writhing against him in the throes of passion. He supposed this kind of thing warranted a countdown calendar.

Across the room Sherlock smiled to himself as well. Satisfied that John Watson knew nothing of his long term plan. A plan that he was convinced would make John, himself and Elanor all very happy people. But one he knew John would ruin were he made aware before the time came. All there was to do for now was to plant the seeds.

Come Monday morning both Elanor and John were nervous wrecks. They had not spoken on Sunday, but had spent no shortage of time thinking about one another, mostly carnally. Elanor for her part had never had such varied and adventurous fantasies. She had spent most of Sunday satisfying herself with her fingers imagining John fucking her in all manner of situations. Some of which she regretted as she stepped into the hospital. Perhaps imagining John taking her over his desk while she called him Dr. Watson had not been the wisest move, since one of the nurses asked her to run some paperwork down to him since she was headed that way. Knowing how busy the nurses were, Elanor didn't have the heart to refuse, but she had rather hoped to avoid John, just for a little bit.

On the one hand, she was incredibly excited to see him again. Every time his sweet boyish face broke out into a smile her heart fluttered and she felt as if she was floating on air for an hour afterwards. And she loved spending time with him, their conversations were always so interesting. He was just so easy to be around. But on the other hand, every time she saw him, she experienced a level of lust she simply wasn't used to. Oh sure she'd liked men before. She'd had sex, and fantasized about men. But John was awakening something in her that felt new, exciting, and a little bit out of control. And Elanor had always been very expressive and a terrible liar. She was worried that the things she was thinking about John were going to show through on her face. She was especially worried now that she had to see him again for the first time since the case in his office.

But there was no time left to worry. In the space of what felt like seconds, she found herself standing outside of John's office door. She took a deep breath and knocked lightly. She heard shuffling behind the door, and closed her eyes taking another deep breath.

John walked to the door, glad that a nurse had stopped by so early with the charts. He was slightly taken aback when he opened the door to find Elanor. In his surprise he found his eyes caressing her form before he could get his friendly demeanor in place. He smiled quickly, hoping she hadn't noticed his slip up. He couldn't help himself, he'd spent the whole weekend wanking off thinking about her. He had enough material from that night at the club with her to last him a lifetime.

Elanor noticed John looking her up and down and blushed. She was suddenly reminded that this man had seen her cum. But before long the congenial Dr. Watson that always put her at ease was back. "Elanor, what a pleasant surprise. Come in," he said stepping back from the entrance. He took the charts from her hand and closed the door behind her as she went to sit down. "I see the nurses are already sending you on errands. It's very sweet of you to help."

"Thank you," she replied blushing cherry red and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Before she got a chance to sit down, John set the charts down on his desk and went over to grasp her hands.

"Elanor, there's no reason to be nervous." He said smiling, "Are you embarrassed about what happened at the club? Because you don't need to…"

"No, no that's not it," she had just gotten a rather vivid mental image of him fucking her on his desk, "I…well. That's a little bit it. I'm not so much embarrassed as…finding it unusual. I think I'll feel better after our date."

John smiled, "I'm looking forward to that too, Elanor." He paused, "But if cumming for me in the club was only a little cause of your blush, then what was the big cause?"

"Shit,"Elanor thought. She really wished she was a better liar. Because she was not about to volunteer that she'd fantasized about him ordering her to drop her knickers and spanking her over the desk. Luckily at that moment Toby pressed his paw on her foot like she'd taught him to do when he needed to go outside. Saved by the dog! "Sorry John, Toby needs to go to the restroom. I'll see you later though."

John frowned, still looking confused. "Okay, I'll see you later." He leaned in and gave her a quick, very sweet peck on the lips. The smiled at each other, then Elanor let Toby drag her to the door.

Elanor and John had lunch together, and talked about their families. John told Elanor about his parents and Harry. While Elanor told John about her parents and what it was like to grow up an only child. He gave her a sweet, slightly longer kiss when they said goodbye. They saw each other briefly in patients rooms throughout the day. Elanor continued to blush on several of these encounters as she didn't have time to control her thoughts when she saw him unexpectedly. For his part John was having similar issues, and found it difficult not to check her out every time she entered or exited the room. He failed on several occasions, and received a few good natured ribbings from his patients.

By the time John got home he still couldn't figure out why Elanor was blushing. She said it wasn't because of the events at the club but…he couldn't think of any other reason. He also knew she was a terrible liar, and it hadn't looked like she was lying when she had said she wasn't blushing because of the club. When he walked in the door Sherlock was crouched in the chair watching Jerry Springer, which meant he was bored. A bored Sherlock was a dangerous Sherlock. So John shouldn't have been surprised when Sherlock pounced on John's look of puzzlement. "What, what is it?"

"What is what?"

"That," Sherlock said pointing to his face.

"Sherlock," John said, sounding exasperated.

Sherlock huffed, annoyed at having to explain his question fully, "What is the situation that has precipitated the look of puzzlement on your face. I need a case, no matter how dull yours will surely be."

John paused. He would rather not involve Sherlock in trying to figure out Elanor, his sense of boundaries with her was skewed as it was. But he would also like an answer to his question, and he knew the less he told Sherlock the more invasive he would become. "It's Elanor."

"You haven't managed to drive her away already?" Sherlock said dryly.

John ruffled a hand through his hair. "No it's. Today she…" and then John related the mystery of Elanor's blushes.

Sherlock scoffed, "Honestly John, you should know this one."

John rolled his eyes, "Sherlock not everyone's you."

"Obviously. I didn't say I should know this one, I said you should."

"Well I don't."

"What were you thinking of every time you saw her today?"

"Screwing her brains out," John answered unabashedly.

"I've been told females have the same impulses."

John's eyes widened, "Oh."

"Particularly high libido on Elanor it would seem."

"So it would," John said quietly re-evaluation all their meetings that day. He smiled to himself, this could be fun.

"Don't make her use explicit words tomorrow." Sherlock yelled after John as he headed up to his room.

"I'm not an idiot Sherlock," John yelled back.


	5. Please Come to the Principal's Office

Disclaimer: Don't own Sherlock. Not making money from this.

Chapter 5: Dr. Watson loses a bit of his famous control. Sherlock continues to be nosy. Elanor starts admitting she might like something other than vanilla. And the smut continues!

The next morning at 10am, Elanor had one of the nurses tell her that Dr. Watson would like to see her in his office when she got a chance. Elanor nodded, and said she would head there now. When she got to his office and knocked she heard John shout, "Come in!" from the other side of the door. "Oh Elanor," John said smiling, "Shut the door would you?" Elanor obeyed, wondering what was up. "Have a seat," John instructed.

"Okay," Elanor told herself, "There is no reason at all to be getting turned on by this. No reason at all." But she was. She could already feel herself growing wet. There was something about John's demeanor and the desk and being summoned that felt like getting called into the principal's office because she'd been naughty. She blushed again as she sat down.

John smiled, a little wolfishly, "That," he said pointing at her face, "That is what I wanted to talk about. You never did get around to telling me why you were blushing yesterday. I do believe Toby interrupted us. Speaking of which, where is he?"

"Oh one of the nurses likes taking him for walks this time of day. She says it's therapeutic."

"Ah," John replied, "Well that's one question answered." He then simply sat, waiting. After a considerable pause Elanor began to fidget. She simply couldn't come up with a convincing lie. John leaned forward looking slightly stern, oh god that really shouldn't turn her on. "Elanor, honesty and openness are very important to me in a relationship. I need you to tell me. Here, I'll go first. This is what I kept thinking yesterday, 'God I want to have her. In every imaginable way possible.' I couldn't stop picturing you naked. I've never wanted anyone so badly that it started overriding my self control. I shouldn't be talking with you about this right now, but I'm afraid I'm having trouble getting my logical brain to kick in. All I seem to be capable of thinking is the twenty different ways I could fuck you over my desk right now."

Elanor's breathing increased throughout John's speech. She rubbed her legs together unconsciously, seeking the friction she desperately needed. She bit her lip. She wanted to tell John about her spanking fantasies, wanted to watch lust cloud his vision. But what if she'd read him wrong and he thought she was sick for thinking things like that. Ladies weren't supposed to tell men they wanted to be fucked over desks before first dates and spanked. Ladies were supposed to wait demurely until mutual assurances of love were declared and then they were supposed to have regular sex when their boyfriend initiated contact. But that wasn't what she wanted now. She was beginning to realize that had never been what she wanted.

"Elanor." John's tone brooked no argument. "What are you thinking?"

"I…I was," she cleared her throat, "I was thinking that I've been a good and proper girl for a very long time, and…and maybe that's not what I want." There, she'd said it.

"Then what do you want Elanor?"

Elanor took a deep breath, now or never. She blushed and steeled herself to look John in the eye. "I want you to spank me."

John's mind became a haze of red. He had not expected that. He was around his desk and pulling Elanor up into his arms before he consciously realized what he was doing. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her thoroughly. He slid one hand over her ass and greedily swallowed her moans and whimpers. She pushed herself into him, she just couldn't get close enough. As she writhed against him she was too distracted to notice John's hand leaving her ass. So his ringing slap against her left cheek took her completely by surprise. She jumped, and had no time to process before John's hand was coming down on her again. By the time his hand was coming down the third time Elanor was more turned on than she'd ever been in her life. She found herself moaning against his neck, not even thinking about how loud she was being.

For himself John was amazed how hard he was over administering a simple spanking. He wasn't sure if it was knowing that this was Elanor's first spanking, or the wanton way she reacted. Maybe it was simply the beauty of her body, he didn't think he'd ever come across a more perfect ass. It was taking immense restraint not to ruck up her skirt so he could watch her ass redden every time his hand came down. God her moans were sexy. Her moans…shit! Oh, he really was being a crap dom. He quickly spun her around and cupped his hand over her mouth. "Mmm, I think we're going to have to continue this later. We wouldn't want your sexy moans to attract unwanted attention." She let out a little protest against his hand. "I know I know," he smoothed his other hand over her stomach, "I'm not looking forward to walking this off either," he pressed his erection into her backside, proving just how turned on he was. "But I'm afraid this is neither the time nor the place. Go get Toby from the nurse. Don't overanalyze what happened. And go home and take care of yourself," he nuzzled her neck and pitched his voice lower, "Believe me I'll be picturing it later tonight." He turned her back to face him, and cupped her face in his hands. The tender, caring side of Watson was back. He smiled, "I'll see you on Friday for our date. I think in the interest of slowing ourselves down a bit, it might be best if we didn't see each other before then. Even if I find myself already missing you."

She smiled back up at him. "I agree, and I miss you already too." He kissed her sweetly and watched her walk out the door. Voluntary exile from her presence, sometimes even he was impressed at his own self control. He supposed it slightly made up for spanking her without discussing limits first. She knew so little of the lifestyle and he hadn't taken the time to explain before diving in. He was going to have to send her home with some books soon. He had simply been taken by surprise. Hearing her admit her desire to be spanked had completely overridden his logical brain. He adjusted himself in his pants thinking about it again. Jesus, she was going to be a handful.

Friday couldn't come soon enough for either John or Elanor. John was surprised how quickly he found himself missing Elanor. Elanor found herself thinking the same thing. The whole week she was at war with herself over how to proceed with John. On the one hand, the good girl in her kept saying that she should go slow with him. On the other hand, she wanted to jump his bones. She kept replaying his voice, his touch, the feel of him against her in her head. All she wanted was more. She wanted to feel his skin against hers. She wanted to explore the parts of her sexuality he was awakening in her. She was desperate to see how far her desire to submit went. Furthermore, she wanted to show him. She loved the way he looked at her when she surprised him. She kept replaying the way his eyes had unfocused and filled with fire when she had admitted that she wanted him to spank her. She writhed on her bed thinking about his hand on her ass. She wished over and over again over then next few days that it was his hand in her knickers, not her own. By the time Friday came around, the bad girl in her had almost entirely taken over, and all she wanted was to have John Watson shag her brains out.

Meanwhile, Watson was following a very different arc. After his encounter with Elanor, he realized that he was going to have to be the one to put the brakes on in this relationship. He saw the change taking over in Elanor, a change he was sure had only intensified in his absence. Elanor had clearly decided to explore her "bad girl" side with him, and he had a feeling that once that was loosed, she would not be the one saying they should slow down. She likely had very little experience with the level of lust she was feeling, a sentiment Watson could relate to. But John knew, that if he wanted to keep her (oh god did he want to keep her) they couldn't have sex on their first date. As much as her lust was clouding her vision now, getting to know him before having sex was very important to her. It was important to John too. He had no trouble with one night stands or introducing sex early on, but not when he was playing for keeps.

And so John steeled himself for the coming test of willpower that Friday would surely bring. He knew it would be hard (no pun intended) but he also trusted his own stubbornness to aid him. He had a plan. He would do very little with Elanor physically on the first date. But he would make sure to talk to her frankly about his reasoning. He didn't want her to mistake his lack of physical intimacy as a lack of desire. Then he would proceed to have lunch with her everyday she was at the hospital for the next month. This would help them get to know each other better, and help them keep their hands off of one another. He would then slowly introduce sexual intimacy to their relationship at the rate of one base a week.

When the second month came, he would begin to teach her what it meant to be a submissive. He would send her home with books, checklists and homework. He would also set aside time to answer her questions and talk to her about what the lifestyle was like. He would in no way act as her dom for the entire second month. Spanking her in his office was wrong, and an example of what happened when he did not mentally prepare himself. She had no knowledge of what she was getting herself into. It was clearly something she wanted, and John could tell she was a natural sub, but if he went to fast, or introduced this to her incorrectly, he could turn her away from the life permanently. That would be an absolute shame.

The last factor to take care of, as well as could be managed, was Sherlock. John sat down Thursday evening to talk to him about not pushing Elanor. For whatever reason, Sherlock seemed invested in them getting together. And Sherlock had a tendency to be impatient when it came to things he wanted. John needed to explain to him that sometimes there were reasons for waiting. It was important to convince Sherlock of this, because as much as he hated to admit it, his control was already heavily burdened right now, and if he was the only thing standing between Elanor and he freefalling into carnality, he really couldn't afford to have Sherlock pushing their buttons.

Sherlock was curled up on his chair, in his dressing gown reading a book with an elaborate title John felt no need to decipher.

"Sherlock, I need to talk to you."

"Busy," Sherlock said, not looking up. John took the top of the book and tipped it down so Sherlock was looking him in the eye.

"Sherlock," he said in his mildly annoyed voice.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "You're interrupting my research for Elanor?"

"She's important to me, and I need you to listen," Sherlock made a face. "Sherlock, I need you not to meddle."

"I thought my last meddling endeavor went quite well."

"Yes, but now we need to slow down. I have a schedule that is best for the both of us in the long term, and I don't want you trying to speed it up."

"You could tie her up and fuck her tonight and it would still be alright in the long term."

John closed his eyes against the image that Sherlock painted. "Sherlock, you know that isn't true."

"There's a 75% chance that it is."

"Well, 75% isn't good enough."

Sherlock paused, looking mildly surprised, "You love her already."

"Sherlock…"

"That's remarkably fast," he raised an eyebrow, "Even for you."

"Sherlock, can you just not…"

"Meddle. Yes thank you, I heard you the first time."

"Sherlock, please. This is important. I know it's not like you to delay gratification, though god knows what gratification you could possibly get from me and Elanor getting together, but…. Sherlock, I really need you to just stay out of this one."

Sherlock regarded him cooly. "Well," he said standing up, "I suppose if 75% is not satisfactory to you." He then turned abruptly and headed to his room with his book.

It was not an outright declaration of neutrality, but John knew it was the closest he was going to get.


	6. First Date

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock. I'm not making any money from this.

Chapter 6: John and Elanor have their first date.

John thought he was prepared for Friday. He had jacked off four times throughout the day, and determined that he didn't have a single drop of semen left in his body. He had chosen a perfectly nice, and very public restaurant to take Elanor to. He had given Sherlock a new and very fascinating book about shoe residue based on brand. And Sherlock had been cooped up in his room all day reading. He had purposefully not cleaned his bedroom. And he had reminded himself a thousand times of all the reasons it was better to put of sleeping with Elanor.

John had not accounted for Elanor's dress. It seemed John never accounted for Elanor's dresses. When he had gone to pick her up at her apartment she had opened up the door wearing the sweetest yellow sundress he had ever seen. She looked like sunshine incarnate. It was made of fluttery, light fabric that moved with the slightest movement. And the color perfectly complemented her long blonde curls that she had left to hang down her back. But the dress was deceivingly sexy. Once you got past the sweet color and fluttery fabric, you found that it clung to her curves in all the right places. It came down to mid-thigh to show off her lovely legs that were further flattered by a pair of high-heeled sandals. The heels brought her even with John's height, and made her legs look fuck-hot. John immediately started having fantasies of fucking her in just those shoes, having the points dig into his back as he thrust into her.., Okay, okay! John took a deep breath and steeled himself. God this girl knew how to push his buttons. This sexy-innocent look turned him on more than any red postage stamp of a dress ever could…okay there was something to be said for red postage stamp dresses too.

But after a moment's internal struggle, John got himself under control. "You look lovely Elanor," he said smiling genuinely. "Are you ready to go?"

"Absolutely," Elanor said in her typically cheerful manner, pretending she hadn't noticed the way John had just eye-fucked her.

She locked up, and John placed his hand on her lower back to lead her to the taxi. "Oh Jesus!" he thought, she really was trying to push him. John frequently led her by placing his hand on her lower back, she knew this. And so she had chosen to wear a dress with a cut out in that exact place. Oh god, he had underestimated her. It was amazing what that little patch of skin could do to him, he found it sorely testing his resolve. She was so soft, he found himself unconsciously tracing patterns in her lower back, just to feel the skin beneath his hands. How could anyone be this soft? He only became aware of his actions when she shivered against his hand going into the restaurant. Oh shit, he gently removed his hand from her back, and whispered a gruff "Behave," in her ear before giving his name to the hostess. Jeez even when he was trying no to dom her, it seemed he couldn't help himself.

But she seemed to take his instruction to heart. The rest of dinner was lovely, and they both came out at the end of it feeling as if they both knew each other much better. And they were both pleased to find that the more they knew about the other, the more they liked them. For his part, John didn't think he'd ever so thoroughly admired a woman. And for Elanor, she didn't think she'd ever felt so immediately comfortable with a man. There was simply something about Watson that made you trust him. She suspected that his strong moral core was part of it. He was clearly intensely honest, and kind. Even after knowing him for such a short amount of time, she trusted him more than people she had known for years.

After dinner, he took a taxi with her back to her flat and walked her to her door. Standing on her stoop he gently reached in and took her face in his. Smiling at her, he leaned in and kissed her with such heartbreaking tenderness that she immediately melted into his arms. After a brief period of time, John pulled away and rested his forehead on hers, still cradling her face. She continued to clutch the lapels of his jacket, pressing her body into his. John took a steeling breath, and pulled away slightly. "I think…I think it's best if we call it night."

She nodded, secretly not agreeing at all. She was a raging mess of hormones and thought he should drag her up to her flat and fuck her silly. But she didn't know how to say that so she simply nodded. "Okay," he exhaled heavily again, "Goodnight Elanor."

"Goodnight, John." Elanor returned his warm smile.

"Would you like to go out again next week?"

"Yes, absolutely."

John leaned in and kissed her sweetly again. But this time Elanor felt a bit of edge to his kiss. And this time he was slower to pull away. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she replied.

And as she climbed the stairs to her flat, she could feel John's eyes on her the whole way.

Not fifteen minutes later she received a phone call from John.

"Hi John," she said brightly, "Long time, no see."

"Hi Elanor, was just something I wanted to mention to you before you went to bed. I should've said this in person, I'd planned to. But I'm afraid standing on your stoop with you, I knew if I'd gone upstairs with you, my self-control wouldn't have been strong enough." He heard her inhale slightly on the other side of the phone. "I swear it's so hard to trust myself around you. I… what I wanted to make sure you knew was, the reason I didn't make a move on you tonight wasn't because my desire has lessened, in any way. In fact it just keeps getting stronger. But I know, if we'd slept together, you would have regretted it. I can tell you're wanting but, this is for the best. I want you, not just your body but you. So if you see me holding off, that's why."

"Wow, that was spectacularly straightforward."

"Yeah well, misconceptions and tragedies aren't just for Shakespeare. If you ever want to know why I'm acting the way I am, ask me. I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

"Okay, well…I…I've been doing some reading and, I mean it seems like you are, but I don't want to assume. I…John, are you a dominant?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitation, "And I suspect that you are a natural submissive, even if you haven't explored that side of yourself yet, am I right?"

"Yes, I've never…but I've always liked…it's just new."

"I know. I don't intend to introduce you to that side of me entirely for a while. I think it would be better if we developed our 'vanilla' sex life first, and then slowly added in some BDSM elements, and see how you take to it. I encourage you to do all the reading you want. And feel free to ask me any questions you have. Also if, at some point you'd like to talk to a female submissive, let me know and I'll put you into contact. I know what it is to be new to this and excited, but trust me when I say that going slowly in this area is a good idea. Luckily I'm a fairly experienced dom, and I'm happy to be your leader in this new area. About a month from now, I'll start sending you home with some resources of my own, and we'll start setting aside more regular time to talk about it. In the mean time, I'm going to let you explore on your own for a while. I won't be the one to bring it up in conversation. Also I would appreciate it if, until we reach third base, you only talk to me about this over the phone."

"Okay, may I ask why?"

"You may absolutely ask why. Talking with you about this is incredibly arousing. Until I have an outlet for my arousal with you, talking about it without at least several miles and a cab ride between the two of us, I suspect that even my self control would not hold up."

"Oh, I…that's actually incredibly flattering. I, okay, cab ride, got it. Um, that's good to know, I've actually got some more questions."

"Go ahead."

"I was wondering, how long have you been a dom?"

"About twelve years now. I've always been dominant in bed, but I didn't get into the scene until I was twenty. It was actually a friend that introduced me. We'd had a one off, and she thought it might be something I would like. So she took me along to a mixer. I started doing more research, and by the end of the year I had my first sub."

Elanor continued on asking questions for another half hour, by the end of which she was bright red and decided that she'd asked enough questions for one day. John was certainly glad for the miles between them, because he'd gotten half way down the street before his resolve kicked back in.

Come Monday afternoon Elanor was pleasantly surprised to see John waiting for her outside when she came out of the hospital for lunch. "John!" she smiled, throwing her free arm around him and kissing him briefly on the lips.

John smiled back, "A chap could get used to a welcome like that." And so he did, he and Elanor had lunch together everyday that week. By the time Friday rolled around they found themselves getting along better than ever. Conversation flowed easily, and as they got to know each other better they found themselves aligned on many important matters. Friday at lunch John found himself asking Elanor something he hoped she would say yes to, "Elanor, I know we haven't been going out for very long now, but I was wondering would you like to be exclusive."

Elanor smiled teasingly, "Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Are you saying yes?"

Elanor let her kiss provide the answer so was happy to give.


	7. Second Date

Disclaimer: Don't own Sherlock. Not making money.

Chapter 8: John misses Elanor, smut ensues. Look at all the oral smut!

The next day John was unable to get Elanor's breasts out of his head. He considered himself a fairly modern man, and he spent a fair amount of time thinking about how much he had enjoyed his time with Elanor during the early part of the evening, but it was the latter part of the evening that his mind kept returning to over, and over and over. He kept replaying her little wanton moans and whimpers, the way she arched into him, the way her breasts had felt. Had he mentioned her breasts. Jesus her tits were the most magnificent things he had ever, seen, felt, tasted. It was two in the afternoon and he still wanted nothing more than to touch them again. Really her, all of her. Oh, god she was so soft, and responsive. He loved women, but he'd never had one as perfect as Elanor. Everything she did was instinctive, and it brought out his instinctive side. Unfortunately his instinctive side was directly at war with the side that wanted to take it slow.

She just overwhelmed his senses, until all he could think about was ripping off her clothes and fucking her against the door. Or burying his tongue in her pussy and seeing if she tasted sweet there too. Or whispering dirty nothings in her ear and pushing his greedy fingers down her pants and into her, until she convulsed around him. Or a million other filthy fantasies that he couldn't seem to stop having since he'd met her. He hadn't even mentioned the BDSM fantasies he'd been having about her. Because he could tell she was going to be a spectacular sub. Great, now he was hard again. Fuck it! Just fuck it. He threw down the paper, tucked himself into the waistband of his pants, grabbed his coat and thanked god for the fiftieth time today that Sherlock wasn't home.

He grabbed a cab and was standing in front of Elanor's door within 15 minutes. He rapped a brief tattoo on the door. Elanor opened the door immediately looking oh so inviting in a pair of black leggings and a baggy, pink off the shoulder sweater. She smiled instinctively "John what are you…"

"Want you," he ground out brusquely, before pushing taking her face in both his hands and pushing her backwards into the apartment kissing her, slamming the door shut with his foot. Her mouth immediately opened to him, and she moaned pressing herself into his chest. Yes! This was what he'd been missing. Wasting no time he picked her up effortlessly in a bridal carry, and took her to her room. Elanor didn't miss a beat, sucking his neck until Watson told her to stop unless she wanted him to drop her. She smiled and simply snuggled her head against his chest. She was never so happy as when she was with John.

Reaching her bed, he stood her up at the side of it, and all but tore her shirt off. She responded in kind while he made quick work of her bra. He kicked off his shoes and then kissed his way down her chest until he was kneeling in front of her. He let out a visceral groan as his hands cupped her breasts. "Missed this."

"Me too," she arched into him. Only this time after a couple of moments, he continued to kiss his way down her body. As he drew close to the line of her leggings he hooked his fingers into the sides of them, grabbing her panties as well, and began to pull them down. She shivered in anticipation, and he flicked his eyes up to hers with a grin. She gave out a little moan and wiggled against him. "That," he murmured against her "Is what I like. Your pretty little moans. I wonder what sounds you'll make when I do this…" he ran his tongue along the line of her hip, she gasped and clutched his hair.

"Please, John," she whispered. He grinned up at her, and planted a series of kisses along the hipbone he'd just licked.

"Begging so soon?"

She moaned and wiggled, unwilling to ask again. "Well good things come to those who beg," and with that he quickly pulled her leggings and panties the rest of the way off. She sat back on the bed with a thump allowing him to pull them off her and toss them across the room. He slowly smoothed his hands up the front of her legs, coming up to her stomach, and pushing gently. His cheerful blue eyes had darkened. "Lay back," he commanded.

"Yes," she breathed out, immediately acquiescing and lying back on the bed, hands thrown up above her head. She felt him slowly part her legs wide and hook one over his shoulder. She squirmed both in anticipation and self consciousness over his scrutiny. He was tracing tiny circles over the insides of her thighs, as he said "Christ, you really are beautiful everywhere." She blushed, she'd never heard it called that before. She felt the hand that wasn't presently hooked around her left thigh come up and trace her outer labia with a feather-light touch.

"Mmmhmm," she arched up.

"So responsive," she heard John murmur to himself. She felt his finger delve slowly into her inner folds, and begin tracing up and down, studiously avoiding direct contact with her clit. "So wet. Mmm, have you been thinking about me darling?" He kissed the inside of her thigh.

"Yes," she replied.

"Mmm, I've been thinking about you too," his finger began to tease the edge of her entrance. "Did you play with yourself, just like this?" He began to slowly thrust one finger in and out of her. It was agonizing in it's slowness. "Christ, you're tight!"

"I…I yes."

"Yes what darling?" his kisses were getting closer to her center. But he still hadn't touched her clit.

"I…I g-got off thinking of you last night."

"Still this wet from masturbating last night?" he questioned with a twinkle in his eye.

"A-and today, twice."

"What was I doing?"

"This, everything, oh god John, please!" she knew what he wanted. He wanted dirty talk in exchange for action.

"Please what?" he had his innocent schoolboy face on which while typically quite convincing lost a bit of it's power when his face was so very close to Elanor's pussy.

"Touch my clit John! Oh please, please…Oh god!" Her body bowed off the bed and her hand flew to John's head as at that one instruction he was off like a rocket. Using one strong hand to keep her legs from closing, the other was busy pumping two fingers in and out of her, while his mouth had latched onto her clit.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god! John!" she moaned. As he continued to suckle her clit in his mouth she found her self moaning his name like a mantra and tightening her hold on his cropped hair. And then he crooked his fingers inside of her and started looking for something. She didn't have many braincells left to worry about what the fingers inside of her were doing as so much of her brain was busy concentrating on the amazing things his tongue was doing against her clit. She'd heard from all of her girlfriends that guys weren't typically very good at oral sex, and that had certainly been her experience, but John….jeez, she didn't know that she'd ever be able to live without this again.

Suddenly his fingers found what they were looking for and Elanor's world burst open at the seams. She arched up off the bed, all but screaming John's name, as fireworks went off behind her eyelids. Distantly she heard John mutter "Shit," as she began to clench against him, but she was too awash in sensation to really care. God, she'd never come that hard in her life. John's fingers continued pumping inside of her slowly as her orgasm diminished. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw John looking up at her with fire in his eyes licking his fingers.

"You all right there tiger?" he asked, climbing up to lie beside her on the bed.

"Mmm," she kissed him lightly, smiling a dopey smile. "Better than alright, that was the best orgasm I've ever had," growing horny again, she trailed her hand down John's chest to the line of his jeans, "Maybe I could return the favor?"

"Oh god yes," he muttered before claiming her mouth in a searing kiss, insinuating his tongue between her lips and letting her taste herself. Her hands fumbled with the button of his jeans, due to the slightly awkward angle. But after a bit of finagling she was able to get it undone. She hastily pulled his zip down and began pushing his jeans down. John rolled on to his back to help her get his bottoms off and she stood bent over at the foot of the bed kissing his chest as she pulled his jeans the rest of the way off. She didn't think she'd ever been this excited to give oral sex. But for some reason she was dying to have John's cock in her mouth. She wanted to see his eyes darken further, to hear his throaty groans as he came, she wanted all of it. John was already breathing heavier, looking down at Elanor with lust as she smoothed her hands back up his legs to the waistband of his pants. She leaned up slightly and kissed him as she teasingly rubbed the flat of her palm against his erection. He moaned and bucked up into her, desperate for the contact.

She slowly kissed her way down his torso and drew the blade of her tongue against her favorite winged muscles over his hipbones. Gritting his teeth, hating to beg, Watson ground out "Please." Elanor smiled, that was all she wanted to hear. She slowly pulled his pants off as if unwrapping a present. When she saw Watson's size her mouth popped open. Seven inches, and thick, that was going to feel amazing in her. Slightly curved, and uncircumcised, it was leaking pre-cum from its bulbous pink head. She moaned, actually moaned! Just from seeing John's penis, god what the fuck was wrong with her. Elanor's eye's flew up as she heard John snickering. "Oh shut up," she said smiling, "You know you're gifted." John smiled, "I'm not going to deny that that little moan made my day though. Now don't make me say please again."

He didn't have to. After he was exposed, all of Elanor's ability to tease was gone, she wanted to touch him. Right. Fucking. Now! She practically ripped his pants off the rest of the way, and placing her hands flat against his hips, sucked the first several inches of him into her mouth. "Fuck," John groaned in relief, gently placing his hand at the back of her head, tilting his head up to look at his dick disappearing into Elanor's sweet mouth. Good lord, Sherlock was right, he really did like corrupting to the good girls. Knowing that he had this sweet, practically innocent little woman sucking his cock with abandon was almost too much for him. "Jesus," he grunted, gripping her hair as she licked the underside of his head with her tongue. And then, oh god, and then, she started to go lower. He felt himself hit the back of her throat, and she kept going. "Jesus Christ!" he all but shouted as he felt her throat muscles contract around him. She kept going until she had reached the base of his cock and hummed in appreciation of her success. Watson was panting now as he felt the vibrations of her humming shoot through his cock. It was a rare woman that could take all of him in, but the fact that it was Elanor. God, it was taking everything he had not to cum down her throat right now.

She moaned around him again as she pulled up and began bobbing shallowly. John grunted, gripping her hair and attempting not to buck up into her mouth. He kept looking down at her, he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the sight of her mouth on his cock. He moaned loudly at the visual when she pulled off him and licked his cock from base to tip flicking her heavy lidded green eyes up to his own. "Fuck," he exclaimed when she returned to sucking his dick and began fondling his balls. If she was this natural at everything she was hardly going to take any training. As much as he didn't want this to end, he found himself approaching the end. "Fuck, fuck yes! Oh, oh, mmmh Elanor. Oh, yeah Elanor, just like that. Suck my cock. Take it all. Mmmh. Oh Elanor, so good. Mmmh, gonna, ooooh, gonna come." At this he expected her to pull off, but instead she continued to suck with a renewed vigor. He poured out a litany of yesses realizing she was going to let him cum in her mouth. "Fuck, Elanor! Yes, yes, yes, yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes." He felt his ball clench and the pleasure rise through him. He grunted pouring his cum down Elanor's throat. She swallowed, and smiled up at him. He huffed out a long breath, "Jesus Elanor, that was…wow." She ducked her head smiling at the compliment and crawled back up his body to cuddle him, but Watson had other plans. Hugging her back, and kissing her on the top of the head sweetly, he trailed the fingers of one hand in feather light caresses down between her legs.

She squirmed, surprised. "John," she looked up at him questioningly. He smiled down at her, "You think you're getting off with one orgasm," he shook his head, "I want to see that face again. Now open." He commanded tapping the outside of her leg with his fingers. Elanor obliged, and was rewarded with John covering her body with kisses while he brought her off with his fingers.

When she awoke the next morning, or to be more accurate, afternoon, Elanor had never been more glad that it was Sunday. There was simply no way could have woken up early today. John had spent the rest of last night making her cum more times than she ever had in her life. With his fingers, his mouth, his words, he had her quaking beneath him more times than she could count. And of course she never bored of his magnificent penis, body, the way he grunted when he came, his dirty talk when he got close. Right now he was snuggled up behind her, with his arms wrapped around her waist. She didn't know that she could simultaneously feel amazingly safe and comfortable, and horny out of her mind at the same time. Despite the multiple orgasms he'd given her last night, they only seemed to have increased her lust rather than sated it. Had she not worried about waking him, she would have turned around and sucked his neck while she pressed herself against him and jerked him off. She was dying to have sex with him, but he was quite adamant, his steely control remained in place. He reminded her that she only had to wait one more week, and every time she tried to tempt him she felt like a petulant child. Although a part of her hoped if she pressed him far enough, he would spank her like one. He had certainly alluded to a few of his more dominant fantasies last night. She didn't think he had meant to, but even John didn't have airtight control. But if she was honest with herself, she did think it was best to wait until next week to have sex, even if her raging hormones were begging her to do otherwise. If she truly wanted, she had a feeling she could crack his control with some handcuffs and a few well placed 'sirs' but she didn't want to, not really. And so she pressed her legs together tighter, and waited for John to wake up.

In truth John was already awake, he'd been peacefully breathing in her scent waiting for her to awake for the last half hour. And now he could feel her squirming against him with growing arousal. Watson was amused by her barely controlled writhing. He could tell she was remembering last night. God last night had been amazing. After holding off for so long, wondering what she would feel like, taste like, sound like, he was ecstatic to finally know. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of hearing her cry out his name. He loved the way she said his name, whimpering in a barely disguised form of begging, moaning it in arousal, and all but shouting it when she came. He'd actually gotten a scream out of her once last night. God he loved that she was a screamer. She was so naturally expressive, he was incredibly glad that no man had ruined that before he got to her. He wanted her screaming and writhing, bucking into his hands placed firmly on her hips. The self control it had taken not to plunge into her at several points last night was almost more than thought he possessed. But he'd reminded himself how important she was to him, how important it was to do this right.

And it's not like there hadn't been other things to keep him occupied last night. Her mouth for one. Jesus christ he had not been expecting that. He'd had worse blow jobs than that by highly experienced women. In fact come to think of it, he couldn't think of a time he'd ever had a better one. And he could tell she was only going to get better as the spent more time together. He certainly hoped her enthusiasm didn't wane, hoped he'd finally found someone like himself. He thoroughly loved sex, never bored of it, of the feel of a woman's body. He had an inkling that Elanor might be the same way, and if he was right, they could have some real fun together. He ducked his head, smiling against her shoulder. He really did think he may have found the one.

Elanor started at John's lips against her shoulder and grinned, rolling over to match his lips to her own. She arched into him and resisted the temptation to hook her leg over his and slide his cock into her. Watson sensed her desire, and rolled her onto her back and held her wrists above her head. He pulled back from her and looked into her eyes, "No." "Please," she whispered arching into his chest. John smiled and kissed her sweetly, "One more week."

She groaned against his lips in frustration. He squeezed her wrists gently. "Behave," he admonished her. "Never," she smiled. "Oh we'll see about that," he whispered kissing his way down her neck. "Are you gonna show me my place Dr. Watson?" she taunted, emphasizing his title. She felt his jaw tick against her shoulder. "Elanor," he said warningly. She knew it was a bad idea, but he was so much fun to tease. "Come on _sir _you want me to behave? _Make_ me." John pulled up looking her directly into her eyes with such intensity Elanor would have backed away were it possible. "Elanor, if you think I am going to reward your insubordination with the spanking you are so clearly begging for, you are greatly mistaken. If I possessed less self control I would tie you up and leave you wanting for a full hour for your disrespect. As it is, I refuse to let you make me introduce a d/s aspect into our relationship before you have been fully briefed. Now I suggest you leave your wrists above your head, and keep your mouth shut while I eat your out, before my self control breaks and you find yourself begging for release."

Elanor found herself able to do nothing but obey as John made her come over and over for the next hour before he allowed her to return the favor.


	8. Sherlock the Cblock

Disclaimer: Don't own Sherlock. And if I did I'd be making money, but I don't so I'm not.

Chapter 9: Interfering Sherlock is interfering. Elanor is an excellent peacemaker. John is very good at phone sex.

Come Sunday night John finally tore himself away from Elanor's body and returned to 221B. He had to get a good night's sleep and a change of clothes before going to work in the morning. Elanor couldn't have dinner the next night, but they agreed to have dinner together Tuesday after work.

Walking in the door Watson was disappointed to find Holmes perched in his usual chair. Not that John didn't miss his friend after being away for a couple days, he just wasn't in the mood for Sherlock analyzing the state of his and Elanor's relationship.

Sherlock looked up at him briefly before returning to his laptop. "Finally," he muttered, "You should be in a better mood now."

"I was. Can we not talk about this Sherlock," John requested.

"I see you haven't started domming her yet."

John pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, and huffed out "Sherlock."

"You'd both be much happier," Sherlock said turning the page.

"Yeah Sherlock, like you understand the complexities of a dominant submissive relationship."

Sherlock looked up at John raising an eyebrow. John stopped in his tracks, staring, mouth agape, at Sherlock. "No. Really?" John asked. Sherlock merely shrugged, before returning his gaze to his book. There was a pause as John processed this information. "Really? You." John asked again.

"Really, me," Sherlock replied sardonically. "It's been a few years, but I always did enjoy a good sub in a rope harness."

John felt like he was thinking through molasses. Sherlock. Sherlock! Not only was he not a virgin, but apparently he was into… John wasn't sure what to think, much less what to say.

"John I suggest you pick your jaw up off the floor, as you have often noted it is less than completely sanitary." John continued to stand there silently, attempting to process the fact that Sherlock was a sexual, not just a sexual, a kinky creature. "John," Sherlock prompted, looking up from his book again.

"Yeah, yeah, fine." John said distractedly, "Umm, I was just. Tea." John said making his way to the kitchen. Trying as far as possible not to think about Sherlock as a dom or about the advice he had been given.

John nearly went crazy waiting for Tuesday night to come. The minute he was through her apartment door he poured all his frustration into kissing her senseless. Elanor returned his passion with equal vigor, writhing against him muttering "I missed you," against his neck. "Yes," Watson agreed all but ripping her dress off and pushing her against the wall. He didn't even bother to remove her bra before kneeling before her and shoving her panties down to her ankles. Hooking her left leg over his shoulder he gave one long lick from core to her clit. She let out a needy whimper and clutched his hair. Watson couldn't even pretend to want to tease her with both of them in this state. He had his fingers inside her and his mouth lapping greedily at her clit before she could even get the word "Please," out.

He was pleased to find he hadn't lost his touch when he had her cumming in under five minutes.

As soon as her breathing evened, she reached down and grabbed him by the lapels and dragged him up to kiss her. She could taste herself on his lips, and suddenly she couldn't wait one more second to have him in her mouth. She gave him one last desperate kiss before spinning him around and kneeling before him. She yanked down his trousers and pants in one go. With little more than a glance up at John's needy face, she took him in hand and swallowed him down to the hilt. "Jesus," John groaned, burying his hand in her hair. "Mmmhmm," she moaned bobbing over his length trailing her fingers along his muscular thighs. Elanor showed John she shared his talent and had him cumming in under five minutes as well. They spent the rest of the night tangled up in one another making up for their lost Monday.

Despite the difficulty that was Monday, they decided that some separation and sleep was in order before going "all the way," on Saturday. John practically rubbed himself raw imagining Elanor's tight heat wrapped around him. And okay maybe a couple of those imaginings involved her in handcuffs, but just as many of those imaginings had her looking lovingly into his eyes while he held her tenderly.

Meanwhile Elanor was having similar fantasies all the way up until Saturday evening.

On the way over to Elanor's apartment John was already regretting their decision to have a night out before their night in. He thought he'd taken care of himself adequately before leaving the apartment but as he adjusted himself in his pants, he found that wasn't entirely true. He was certain that wasn't true once he saw Elanor in her dress. He could tell she was trying to go easy on him, but the truth was he'd still be attracted to her if she'd shown up in a burlap sack. As it was she was wearing a perfectly lovely off the shoulder black dress. While it was perfectly modest with a hemline to her knees and a fifties sillouette, he couldn't stop thinking about kissing her lovely shoulders while he slid the zipper down her back. For the moment he settled for kissing her chastely on the lips and telling her she looked beautiful.

Elanor smiled. She never tired of seeing the fire flare in John's eyes whenever he saw her. It never failed to inspire a corresponding flare in her. The more time she spent with him the more she began to suspect that the flare wasn't just lust. Trying not to dwell too much on her growing feelings for John, she took his hand and followed him down the stairs to what she expected would be lovely dinner.

She was wrong. "Very wrong," she sighed to herself absentmindedly fiddling with her crème brulee while her boyfriend argued with his flatmate in the corner. John had attempted to steer Sherlock into the restrooms but had only managed to get him as far as an out of the way nook.

"Christ Sherlock, really? You want me to leave with you right now to go to Scotland for god knows how long!" Watson questioned in a terse whisper.

"Yes. I thought I'd made that quite clear by using the words 'John, case, Scotland, now." Sherlock replied as if it was the most natural thing.

"No, no. This, whatever this is…"

"Serial murders with cryptic notes and several locked room scenarios." Sherlock interjected.

Watson looked at him blankly for a moment. "Okay fine, serial murders, can wait until morning. Tonight…"

"Yes, yes. Tonight you intended to copulate with Elanor. Surely that can wait a few days."

"I don't understand Sherlock. You've, apparently, been trying to get me off for ages. Well, now I have someone. Now, can you please go let me have her?"

"I thought you were supposed to be the nobler of the two of us, shouldn't murders take precedence? Should people die because you want to have a good time with your girlfriend."

John sighed, cornered by his damn morality again. He paused, saying goodbye to the night he had planned with Elanor. "I hate you, you know," John said before spinning on his heel and marching back to break the news to Elanor.

"Only temporarily," Sherlock replied, shoving his hands in his pockets and smiling.

Elanor could tell by the look on John's face as he returned to the table that this was not going to be good news. John meanwhile was terrified of breaking the news to her. He'd had women dump him at the first infraction, such as this. But he supposed this was his life, he couldn't shelter her from it forever. He finally reached the table, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and before he could begin apologizing, Elanor had put her hand over his and began to speak.

"John go, it's okay. I know this is your life. And while it may be inconvenient at times," she tore her eyes from John's momentarily to shoot a look at Sherlock, "It's good for you. So go, and don't worry about me, I like you and your life just the way it is." She stood up and wrapped her arms around John's neck, pecking him on the lips. "Go catch some bad guys,"

John stared at her, shocked. That. Was. Not the reaction he was expecting. He'd never gotten anything close to that reaction from any of his other girlfriends. He was still processing as he said, "That was, and I've only ever said this to one other person, amazing. You, I've never…" He laughed to himself, and paused, everything finally sinking in. He looked at her directly and smiled, heart in his eyes, still slightly shocked, "Thank you." He kissed her good-bye very sweetly, threw some bills on the table, and kissed her one more time. "I really am sorry. I'll call you when we're in Scotland."

"Have fun dear," Elanor smiled teasingly sitting back down to finish her dessert as she watched her boyfriend run out the door with Sherlock Holmes. And perhaps the most surprising thing was that she found herself completely and utterly okay with the situation. She supposed she could truly say this, life with John would never be boring. And perhaps the excitement was worth the lost date nights. Scratch that, she thought, looking at the smile on John's face as he leapt into a cab in front of the restaurant, it was definitely worth it.

"Hello, Elanor?" John said over the phone early the next morning.

"John, hi! So you got in okay?"

"Yeah, just running a bit short on sleep. We got in around 2 am. I would've slept on the train but, you know Sherlock. It is nice to be on a case again but god I miss you already."

"Me too. If I were there I'd give you a big hug and make you some coffee."

John's voice took on a darker tone. "I assure you if you were here that's not what we'd be doing at all."

Elanor already felt herself getting wet. She'd never had phone sex before. All she could muster was, "Oh?"

"I'd have you against a wall snogging your brains out before you even got close to a coffee maker. Hands under your shirt, touching your fantastic breasts. You're getting wet already aren't you?"

"Yes," Elanor moaned into the phone, "God yes. I miss your hands."

"Well yours will have to do. Are you in bed?"

"Yes."

"Good, me too. Now, reach up and play with your tits just like I would if I was there."

"Yes. Yes, sir," Elanor said obediently, reaching under her nightgown and squeezing her left breast. She heard John grunt.

"Say that again," he growled.

"Yes, sir," Elanor replied breathily and was rewarded with a moan on the other end of the phone.

"I swear to god Elanor, if I was there I'd rip that nightgown off you and have my hands down your pretty little panties before you could say 'Please.'"

"Oh god!"

"Put your hands down your panties. Play with yourself Elanor, I want to hear you rubbing your pretty little clit."

"John, oh, John."

"Tell me what it's like."

"Oooh, I, I'm wearing your favorite panties. The light blue ones that you always say show off my ass."

"Mmmm, they won't be my favorites for long because I'm ripping them off you the minute I get home."

"Yes, yes John. I'm parting my folds and… Oh god, I'm already so wet for you."

"That's a good girl. You get wet so quickly. I'm hard for you. Pumping myself up and down, I wish it was your hand."

"John if I was there, it wouldn't be my hand wrapped around you."

"Ah, cheeky girl."

"Mmm, I'm taking some of my wetness up to my clit. Ah!" She cried out, arching, as she began to touch her clit.

"Mmm, I love that about you. Sooo sensitive."

"Yes, sir. Always for you, sir."

"Yesss," John hissed.

"Mmmm, I'm rubbing my clit. Oh god, I wish you were here. I feel so empty. I want you inside of me."

"God, I want to fuck you. I'd stretch that pretty little pussy of yours out, and you'd just cum like a good girl. Wouldn't you Elanor?"

"Yes, yes, sir. I want to cum around your cock," Elanor begged rubbing faster.

"Mmm I'd love to feel that, you squeezing around me as I pump into you. I want to feel your naked body against mine. I'd suck on your neck, on that spot that makes you writhe and show you no mercy as you shuddered against me."

"Ah, ah, ah, John! Oh please, mmm. I'm gonna cum, John!"

"Yes, yes Elanor. Mmm, me too."

"Oh god!"

"That's it cum for me!"

"Oh, John. Ah, ah ah!" Elanor all but screamed feeling herself crest.

"Fuck! Elanor! Shit, cumming," John ground out, body bowing as he came.

For a few moments there was nothing but heavy breathing on either end of the phone as they both came down. With a start they both hear a loud knocking on John's door.

"John if you're quite done playing long distance lovers with your girlfriend on the phone, we have a case to solve. Meet me downstairs in ten minutes."

John sighed, as Elanor turned beet red on the other end of the phone. She supposed having Sherlock know everything about her and John's sex life was going to take a bit of getting used to. "Well, duty calls," John sighed grumpily. "That was amazing Elanor, I'll call you when I can."

"That really was spectacular. I'll talk to you later. Be safe!" She said cheerily into the phone.

"I miss you already," John said smiling.

"Miss you too," Elanor replied and hung up. She sat there a moment, replaying her conversation with John, in her head, smiling, before getting dressed and going to work on her next chapter. Meanwhile John hastily showered, dressed, and rushed downstairs to meet Sherlock.


	9. I Missed You

Disclaimer: Don't own Sherlock. I'm not making any money off this.

Chapter 10: Watson comes home. You know what that means! (Sex, that means tons of sex.)

The case ended up taking John and Sherlock a full two weeks to solve. John and Elanor talked on the phone every day. John kept her updated on the case which turned out to be a particularly fascinating one. She could hear his excitement through the phone. Despite the fact that she missed him desperately, she was happy to hear him so happy about trying to put the puzzle pieces together and running around after Sherlock. And John's particular skill at phone sex helped keep their libido's somewhat in check. But mutual masturbation still left her dying for his touch. She missed his calloused hands upon her. She missed his mouth, his cock, his arms, everything. So when John finally told her the case was solved and he would be coming home Saturday evening, she might have actually squealed into the phone. She smiled at John's responding laugh.

"I'm excited to be coming home too," he replied, "God, but I miss you."

"I miss you too. When are you due to get in?"

"9pm."

"John, if you don't mind terribly, I think we should skip dinner this time. I don't think I could survive if Sherlock managed to find another case in the time we were out."

"No, no I don't think I could either."

"So my place then."

"Yes I think that would be best."

"I can't wait."

"Neither can I."

"I'll see you when you get in."

"I'll have the cab drop me off at your apartment. I should be there by 9:30."

"Great, I'll see you then."

"I'll see you then."

As she hung up the phone Elanor flopped back onto her sofa. Letting out a heavy breath before getting up to go figure out what to wear.

Later that evening, Elanor heard her doorbell ring. She glanced at the clock, 9:30 on the dot. John was punctual to a fault. She pushed the buzzer to let him into the building. She straitened her outfit, and opened the door moments later to find that John had somehow already climbed the stairs and was standing directly outside her door. She had little time to marvel at his fitness before he had pulled her into his arms and was kissing the living daylights out of her. She moaned into his mouth. She had missed this so badly. She dimly heard the door shut before he began to walk her backwards towards the bedroom. She stumbled slightly, before their wits came back to them and John threw her over his shoulder and carried her back to the bedroom.

"I missed you," he murmured as he carried her.

"Me too. I missed you so much John."

After a few moments they had reached the bedroom where John put her down on the bed. He wasted little time before crawling on top of her and kissing her soundly. She pulled his jumper off and he proceeded to do the same to her dress. He looked down at her and groaned. After some deliberation she had chosen a midnight blue push-up bra and a matching pair of panties. "You're even more beautiful than I remembered." After taking a moment to admire her he returned his mouth to hers, kicking off his shoes and beginning work on her bra. She trailed her hands down his chest to the button of his jeans. She quickly undid his zip and pushed his jeans and pants down anxious to feel more of his skin against hers. John got her bra off and immediately set his hands against her breasts. He kissed his way down her neck to her breasts.

As his mouth covered one of her nipples, the hand that had been playing with that breast made it's way down her body to her panties. His fingers found their way beneath the hem of her underwear and without hesitation found her entrance. She was already unbearably wet and his fingers slipped inside her easily. His thumb plied her clit and she arched up into him without hesitation. It felt as if he was everywhere at once. With her panties the only scrap of clothing still remaining between the two of them, she could feel his warm skin everywhere. Her hands were certainly taking advantage of having so much of John's skin available to her. Her hands roamed from his close cropped hair down his back to his buttocks only to stroke his cock briefly and roam back up his chest. She wanted to touch all of him at once, and so she could not seem to keep her hands still.

Once he had adequately assured himself that she was ready, John slipped her panties off. She spread her legs immediately. John returned his mouth to hers. "Are you ready?" He asked her softly. "Yes. Please, John."

John nodded and reached down to align himself with her opening. He looked deeply into her eyes as he slowly pushed himself inside her. "John," she moaned. He continued to push himself inside of her slowly until he finally bottomed out. He groaned. "God," he dropped his head to her neck, "Forgot how tight you are." She could only moan in response. She felt so full. She understood that he was giving her time to adjust. A kindness that was not unexpected from him. But she needed him to move. She wrapped her legs around his hips and bucked her hips against his. This earned another groan from John who got the hint quickly and began to pump into her slowly. "Aaah, mmmh," she was moaning loudly in no time. "Yes, John!"

"Jesus, Elanor," John muttered into her neck.

Bit by bit John picked up his pace until he was fucking her steadily and deeply. For her part Elanor was steadily moaning, thrusting her hips against his and close to cumming. As she got closer and closer to her climax, she began to call John's name repeatedly. He was hitting all the right spots inside of her. His breath came in warm pants against her neck. She could feel his skin against hers everywhere. "John, John! Oh god, John!" John's hands came up to twine with hers. She felt herself approaching the edge, and her hips took up an erratic rhythm against his. Finally she felt every muscle in her body tighten as she arched into John and came around him. "John!" she screamed. "Oh god! Elanor!" John shouted as the flaring of her muscles around his dick triggered his own release.

John remained within her, reluctant to leave the closeness of her body. Eventually he grew soft and had to slip out of her. He rolled onto his back and pulled her close to have her rest her head upon his chest. He wrapped his arm around her, enjoying the feel of her body. "That was amazing," Elanor whispered, still slightly out of breath..

"God yes," Watson agreed. "Give me a bit, we are doing that again."

Throughout the night, John and Elanor coupled several more times. Elanor awoke the next morning, sore and satisfied. She smiled to herself feeling John's arm wrapped tightly around her middle. John had been awake for about ten minutes. He'd been watching her sleeping form, thinking about the night before. He'd taken her slowly, and tenderly, then quickly and passionately. He'd tasted her over and over, feeling her cum beneath him. Then she'd returned the favor, sliding him down her warm throat. Yet he awoke wanting her again. He didn't think he'd ever get his fill of her.

As he saw her eyes flutter open, he began pressing open mouthed kisses against her shoulder. Elanor smiled and rolled her arse against John's morning wood. John groaned and bucked against her. "Morning," he grunted smiling against her shoulder. "Morning," Elanor replied, writhing against him again.

"Still not satisfied?" John taunted.

"Well I was, but then you woke up. And I remembered just what a good kisser you are." Elanor rolled over to face John and kissed him. She moaned into his mouth as he kissed her back. She sucked his tongue into her mouth and reached down to stroke his penis. After a couple strokes she hooked her leg over John's hip and aligned him with her entrance. They groaned against each other as John pushed himself into her.

"Oh god," John let out, tipping his head back. "I keep thinking I'm remembering your heat, your tightness wrong and then," he thrust into her, "I'm in you again. It's even better than I thought." John pumped into her again. Elanor groaned. They wrapped their arms around each other. Elanor stroked John's hair. John kissed Elanor's neck, sucking on her pulse point. Wrapped up in one another, John thrust in and out of Elanor groaning at being in her again.

"Oh god, John!" Elanor gasped. John was desperate to feel Elanor cum again. He trailed the fingers of one hand down to Elanor's clit and started rubbing. Elanor groaned and arched into John's fingers. "John please," Elanor begged. "I know. I know." John assured her. "Ahhh," Elanor cried out as John's hips and fingers picked up the pace. "Yesssss," John hissed, gritting his teeth.

Elanor felt herself speeding towards an orgasm. She rolled her hips continually against John's now. John was groaning and panting against Elanor's neck, trying with all his might not to cum before Elanor did. Luckily for him Elanor's cries were becoming more high pitched and needy. After a couple minutes he could tell she just needed one more push to get her over the edge. "Cum. I need to feel you. Cum for me Elanor." That was it, she cried out, "John!" and clutched at him convulsing around his cock. "Shit. Elanor," John groaned and came into Elanor.

Panting heavily against one another, they slowly separated and rolled onto their backs. "Oh god. I…how does it keep getting better?" Elanor moaned.

John laughed. "I don't know. Didn't think it was possible."

"Mmmm," Elanor murmured in agreement. "Breakfast?" she asked brightly after a moment, hopping out of bed.

"God yes," John said, rolling out of bed too.

Elanor grabbed John's shirt and was about to throw it on when John stopped her. "Elanor don't do that unless you want to end up right back in bed."

Elanor smiled and tossed him his shirt. "You should probably put this on for the same reason then."

John smiled. "Fully clothed for mutual safety then?"

Elanor laughed. "Yeah, that's probably best. I'm pretty hungry."

Elanor grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from her drawer. While John threw on sweatpants and a shirt he grabbed from a duffel bag Elanor didn't even remember him bringing. Then again she figured that she wasn't thinking all that straight when John had showed up.

Finally dressed they headed into the kitchen. Elanor took care of the pancakes while John set the table. John finished first, and within a few moments ended up behind Elanor with his arms wrapped around her kissing her neck. Elanor smiled and gently admonished him, putting him on bacon duty. Not long afterwards, breakfast was finished and on the table.

They spent the rest of the day curled up together doing typical couple things. John was still a bit tuckered out from the case, and Elanor wasn't quite ready to share him with the world, so they decided not to go out. They watched movies together. Elanor rested her head on John's shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her. They breathed in the simple joy of being around one another and fell asleep halfway through the movie. They were both quite tuckered out from the night they had had. Not tired enough not to have sex on the couch when they woke up. It was a wonderful, peaceful Sunday. And John was sad when he kissed Elanor goodbye that evening. Elanor closed the door behind him and barely made it to the bed before she fell asleep again.


	10. Finally!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock. I'm not making any money from this.

Chapter 11: Look more sex! John tries to talk a little restraint into Sherlock which goes about as well as you would expect.

John made it up to his bed without running into Sherlock. He was glad of that. Sherlock was sure to say something inappropriate about him and Elanor shagging. He should be used to Sherlock's lack of decorum, but for some reason it was harder for him to handle it when it came to Elanor. He supposed he was just protective of her. Even though she'd dealt very well with Sherlock. He just kept waiting for Sherlock to do something that Elanor couldn't handle. And everytime Sherlock made a comment to him, John was just reminded that more than likely that day would come. He wasn't even sure what to do about bringing Elanor home. Eventually she was bound to insist that they start spending at least some of their time at his place. But as his head hit the pillow, he found he was too tired to worry about it for long. He was fast asleep within 30 seconds.

The next morning when John ventured downstairs for breakfast, his prediction about Sherlock's comments were fulfilled. As John padded into the kitchen in his sleep pants, Sherlock glanced up from his newspaper briefly. "Finally." He muttered. John sighed, choosing not to address the comment. "Feeling better?"

"I was."

Sherlock glanced up from his newspaper again, cocking an eyebrow. "That good? Hmm."

"Sherlock, can we not…"

"You're different with this one. So protective. I wonder why." He was gazing at John intently now.

John closed his eyes, praying for patience. "Sherlock, seriously."

"You're worried. That I'll scare her off?" John simply looked at Sherlock.

"Well you do have a history."

"But you haven't been this worried before. Is it because of the sex? What did she do? Or is it her physical attributes? Perhaps her vagina is particularly t-"

"Sherlock! Shut up!"

Sherlock pressed on. "I need to understand why you-"

"Because I love her!" John found himself shouting. There was silence in the room. "I love her," he repeated quietly.

To John's surprise, Sherlock smiled. "Good."

"What?"

"Good. I find her acceptable. She is more tolerant of me than your previous girlfriends. You are most pleasant to work with when you are sated sexually."

"Sherlock," John tried to admonish him, but Sherlock continued speaking.

"You should bring her over."

"Sherlock. The last time I-"

"It is distracting you. It has to happen eventually. It would be best if you had sex with her here, it would allay your fears."

"Can you just, stop talking about my sex life. Besides, I know if I bring her here, you'll do the same to her." Sherlock's answering silence was telling. "Can't you try to be polite to-"

"It would be a lie. Besides, the last time we were together, we made out as she came against your leg. I don't think there's anything I could say to drive her away."

"That-that was for a case Sherlock. That was different."

"How?"

John was silent. He hadn't thought about that night for a long time.

"You must admit, it didn't bother you. Elanor and I are okay together. Stop worrying unnecessarily. It will be okay." John couldn't argue with that. It was true. Seeing Elanor and Sherlock together hadn't bothered him. Maybe that was the real reason he was keeping Elanor away. Maybe he was worried about his own feelings about Elanor and Sherlock. His roommate and his girlfriend had made out. Shouldn't that feel wrong?

"Sherlock, I love her." John said in a soft voice, "I love her like I haven't loved in a long time. I don't know how to balance her in our world. Please don't make it harder."

Even Sherlock's heartstrings were pulled by the venerability in John's voice. And so he nodded, "Okay." But he knew that there were harder times to come, before he could make his plan work for all of them. Working with the traditional parts of John's nature were going to be hard, but he knew that in the end it would be worth it.

"Okay," John replied. He turned back to the kitchen. "Toast?"

"Yes. Marmite." Sherlock replied. And nothing more was said about it.

John went over to Elanor's that evening after work. He rang the bell and ran up the stairs eagerly. He'd missed her all day. Her scent. Her voice. Her touch. Everything. The minute she opened the door, John found that she had missed him too. She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. "I missed you," she mumble against him. She laughed, "Is that crazy?"

"No, I missed you too. God, I missed you so much." He stroked her back with one hand as he hugged her tight with the other. He kissed her neck. "I missed you," he mumbled with each kiss as he worked his way to her mouth. Then he kissed her passionately and cupped her face in both hands. It felt so right to be joined with her again. She clutched his short hair in her hands as her knees went weak. Her knees always went weak when John kissed her.

She grabbed his tie and walked him backwards into the apartment. Once they were inside, she reached around and shut the door behind him and broke the kiss off. "I need you," she whispered."

"God yes," he replied, immediately stripping off her shirt. She replied by kissing him again and yanking off his tie. She then ripped his button up open, scattering the buttons god know where. Meanwhile John had begun his work on her jeans. He fiercely yanked down her zipper and pulled her pants and underwear together in one go. By the time he popped back up Elanor already had her bra off. John spun her around and pushed her roughly against the door. She pushed his shirt and jacket off his shoulders and reveled in the feel of his skin on hers. She didn't think she'd ever get enough of this feeling. By the time her hands were fumbling with John's slacks, he already had his fingers on her clit.

"So wet already?" John whispered against her mouth, smiling. Elanor could only moan in response as John's fingers slid easily inside of her. She eagerly pushed his pants and underwear down, desperate to have him inside her again.

Once they were both naked, John grabbed her arse in both hands and lifted her up. She flung one arm around John's neck and used the other to guide John into her. "John!" she cried out at having him in her again. "Elanor," John groaned against her neck. "God, so tight." He gripped her arse, and moved in and out of her slowly but deliberately, giving Elanor time to adjust.

"More," she begged, arching her chest into his. John complied, thrusting into her harshly. He bit her neck, grunting as he pushed her against the door. "Oh, god John!" she keened. He loved the way she was so vocal for him. She bucked against him as best she could, a constant stream of John's name and curse words leaving her mouth as she got closer and closer to cumming. John grunted, fucking her harder against the door, desperate to make her cum around him. God, she was like a vise. He thanked god as her voice pitched higher. He couldn't hold out much longer, thank goodness she couldn't either. She was practically screaming his name when she came around him. John bit down on her neck leaving a mark as her ripples around him set off his own orgasm.

They shuddered against one another, coming down from their respective highs. She unlocked her legs from around John's waist one at a time. They continued to hold one another breathing heavily for a few moments. "That was-" Elanor began.

"Yeah," John agreed. "Again," John said throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her to the bedroom.

"John," she laughed, playfully slapping him on the back. He certainly did have a thing for manhandling her. He tossed her down on the bed, and instructed her to lie in the middle of it. Every now and then John's voice took on a commanding tone that viscerally reminded her that John was a dom. She'd been doing research, and the more she learned about the lifestyle, the more she became convinced that this was what she had been looking for, for a very long time.

She obeyed John, and stretched out in the middle of the bed, reaching her arms above her.

"Yesss," John hissed. "Turn away from me," he ordered. She rolled onto her side, facing away from John. She felt John climb onto the bed and lie down beside her. He pulled her body flush with his, and hooked her upper leg over his, opening her up to his searching fingers. His fingers found her clit and her whole body writhed against his. "John," she whimpered brokenly as he used some of their mingled fluids to ease his finger's way over her clit.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you at work. I love the way you flush when you cum. That pale skin of yours blushes so beautifully. And so vocal you are. Such a dirty girl," she moaned, pushing into his fingers, reveling in the friction he was giving her. "You love having my cock in you so much don't you?"

"Yes, John. Yes I love it."

"Love the way I feel pushing in and out of you. I could make you cum until you begged me to stop. Until you screamed that you couldn't take anymore. And I will some day. God, Elanor, there's so much I want to do with you, to you." His fingers began to work more quickly as he got excited thinking about all the ways he could have her. "So many ways, so many positions, so many place, I want you in every way imaginable."

"Oh god, John. I'm so close!"

"Insatiable," he mumbled against her shoulder.

"Yes!" she agreed, her body bowing as she came against his fingers. He continued to rub her slowly, until she came down fully and her body sagged into his. "No, no, not finished with you yet," he said when she tried to roll away from him. He continued to rub her outer lips gently, allowing some of her sensitivity to subside. When she groaned his name and arched her shoulders into him, he took that as his cue to center his fingers on her clit again. "John," she breathed out.

To her surprise, she felt the warmth of his body leave hers. He crawled down the bed, and turned her on her back so he could kneel between her splayed legs. She whimpered when he licked one long, sinuous line from the base of her opening to her clit. Her hips bucked up and he hooked his arms under her legs and pushed his hands down on her hips, to still them.

He began to thrust his tongue in and out of her pussy in between lapping up her wetness. Her hips pushed against his hands of their own accord. She was already whimpering and moaning constantly by the time he moved his tongue up to her clit. She started yelling his name then. A constant litany of "John! Please! Oh God!" poured from her mouth as she came harder than she thought she ever had before. John pressed light kisses to her hips as she came down. Once she came back to earth, she looked down at him smiling and tousled his hair affectionately. "That was amazing."

John smiled at the compliment. "My pleasure," he said kissing his way up her body. When he met her mouth, she could taste herself on his lips. She could feel that John was ready for another round. She felt spoiled riches when she thought of all the options she had of how to solve his 'little problem.'

She decided that she couldn't wait to have him inside her again. She spread her legs for John. "I need you," she murmured in his ear, and gently bit his love. John groaned and guided himself into her. "John, can I," she bit her lip, "Can I ride you?" John's only response was to groan again and roll them still connected onto his back. She grinned and sat up, rolling her pelvis against his. She rested her hands against his chest for support an bounced up and down on his cock. "Oh god," John grunted, gripping her hips.

He started pushing his hips up to meet hers. "Stop topping from the bottom," Elanor teased.

John barked out a laugh, still thrusting against her. "Been doing some reading I see." She nodded. "We'll talk about that later. For now, I want you to ride me. And don't forget," he said, gripping her hips for emphasis, "You may be on top, but I'm the one in charge."

As he leveled his gaze at her, Elanor felt herself having to agree. "Yes, sir," she whispered breathily.

"Christ, Elanor," John bucked his hips into hers harder.

Elanor continued to bounce on John's cock, moaning at how good he felt inside of her. She loved the look on John's face as she rode him. He looked completely blissed out, especially when he became transfixed by her jiggling breasts. His hands came up to cup them, "God I love these."

"Mmmmph," she moaned in response as he pinched her nipples. He trailed one of his hands down to her clit. "Again," he demanded.

"John, I can't."

He continued to play with her clit and her breast. "Again," was all he said in reply. She bit her lip and rode John harder. Even though she thought she couldn't cum again, she was willing to try. After a couple more minutes, she began to think that she'd underestimated the talent of John's hands. What his fingers were doing to her clit should be illegal. She felt herself building again, and began calling out John's name again.

"That's it. Getting close again?"

"Yes, yes sir. Oh god."

"That's right. I wanna see that flush come over you again. I wanna feel you cum around me. You squeeze so tight. God so good," her voice started to pitch higher as John talked to her, "Yeah. You like it when I fuck you?"

"Yes, yes, I need it."

"You need my cock in that sweet little pussy." She was so close now.

"John, John I'm-"

Suddenly she felt John's hips and fingers pick up speed and she came screaming around him. She could barely hear John's own shout as he spilled inside her. It felt like her orgasm went on forever. She continued to shudder against John as she came down from her high. She finally slumped against him, completely spent. She reluctantly rolled off John and laid on her back breathing harshly.

"That was-" John started.

"Uh-huh," she agreed.

"I mean really-"

"Uh-huh."

There was nothing but heavy breathing for a moment.

"John, I never thought I'd ever say this, but I swear to god if you make me cum again, I'm going to pass out." John laughed. "I'm serious. Don't. I need like, a nap, and a cookie or something." John laughed again and pulled her to his chest.

"Okay, okay, I'll take the fact that you need a break as a compliment. Get some rest sweetheart." Elanor was out before John even reached the end of his sentence.


	11. The Happy Couple

Disclaimer: Don't own Sherlock. Don't make any money.

Chapter 12: John and Elanor settle into a routine. Elanor faces the fearsome Sherlock over tea.

John and Elanor slept together had her place every night for the next week. He started sending her home with reading material about the BDSM world, but didn't have any discussions with her beyond that. On Thursday, John asked if Elanor would be willing to spend the weekend at his place. They had to face Sherlock at some point. Elanor said she would love to. Secretly she was worried about having sex around Sherlock, but she figured that it was something she'd have to get used to.

And she did love that he was inviting her into his life.

So before they went out for their date on Friday night she packed an overnight bag. Their date was lovely. John took her out to see a play and to dinner. John had attempted to brief Sherlock on how to behave like a human being around Elanor before leaving. He didn't think any of it would stick, but he had to keep trying. They didn't see Sherlock when they returned home as they went directly to John's room. He found Elanor was muffling her cries at the beginning of their evening. It took some encouraging from him to have her come out of her shell. He wasn't about to have Sherlock restrict his sex life in this regard. Sherlock didn't need to hear her to know what she was doing anyway. By the end of the night, he had her back to full volume, and they both fell asleep in each other's arms fully sated.

Elanor awoke before John the next morning. She got up quietly trying not to wake him. She knew from the experience of him sleeping over on and off for the last week that she usually woke up an hour before he did. So she ran to the restroom and deliberated whether or not she should go downstairs. She absentmindedly threw on some underwear, a dressing gown and her robe. She continued to debate the issue with herself. On the one hand she was hungry, she knew she had to get used to Sherlock, and really he'd been much nicer than she'd expected the last time she'd seen him. But on the other hand Sherlock was intimidating, she'd rather face him with John, and the last time they'd met she'd cum in front of him. After a few more minutes of thinking she stripped, put a bra on, redressed, and went downstairs quickly before she had a chance to change her mind.

Downstairs she found Sherlock sitting in the armchair, in his dressing gown, with a book. "Morning," he said not looking up from his book.

"Good morning, Sherlock." She walked as confidently as she could manage, certain she was being deduced, even if Sherlock wasn't looking at her. She put the kettle on and without being asked grabbed two cups. By the time she'd made herself toast, the kettle had boiled. She made herself and Sherlock a cup of tea. Adrenaline junkie? She had the feeling Sherlock was the kind that took his morning cuppa with sugar. "One lump or two?" she called over her shoulder.

"Two," Sherlock replied, managing to sound unperturbed, even though his face told a different story.

She stirred a pair of sugar cubes into his cup, and one into hers. She whirled around, walked over and set his cup down beside him. She grabbed a newspaper off the table beside him and settled in for breakfast. "Thank you, Elanor." Sherlock said after a pause. Elanor stared outright at him. John had warned her that Sherlock wasn't good with names. She definitely knew enough about him to know that he didn't say thank you very often.

"Stop staring Elanor, it's rude."

"I'm sorry, I just…I was lead to believe that was your job."

He finally looked at her with a crooked smirk on his face. "Yes, yes it usually is." There was a pregnant pause in which they continued to regard each other.

"Why?"

"I thought I might try something different."

She squinted at him. That was a lie, or at least not the whole truth. The question was, should she call him on it. Sherlock read the question in her face before she could decide whether or not to voice it. "You know I've hear there's a saying about not looking gift horses in the mouth."

"Sometimes gift horses have rabies."

He smirked again, "John would be proud of the effort I'm making."

"I'm not John, and non-sequitors are cheap manipulation tools."

"John said you were nice."

"I made you tea," his eyes flicked briefly to the cup in his hands, "I trust John also said I was smart."

"You didn't question it the first time I was nice to you."

"I had other things on my mind that night."

"Yes you did," he said in a way she would have called lecherous were it anyone else. As it was, she assumed it was another form of manipulation.

John chose that moment to come into the living room. "Morning, John," Sherlock said brightly.

"Sherlock," John said tersely, quickly scanning the situation, "Good morning Elanor," he said coming over to wrap his arm around her shoulder and kissing her on the top on the head. "Alright?" he murmured in her ear.

"She's fine, John," Sherlock answered for her. "We've been getting along famously."

"Elanor?" John pressed.

She smiled, "Really John, I made him tea and Sherlock's been exceedingly nice."

"Exceedingly?" John repeated, surprised.

"Really," Elanor confirmed. "I just made Sherlock some tea in fact, would you like some?"

"Oh yeah, that'd be lovely," he affirmed taking a seat at the table.

"Toast?"

"Yes, please. Butter. Thank you, darling."

Elanor nodded and made John breakfast. She ended up whipping up some eggs for herself and John as well. Once they had finished their respective breakfasts, the three of them continued reading together for the next hour. Once Elanor had reached a convenient stopping point, she announced that she was going upstairs for a shower. John said he'd be up in a minute. She figured he was going to interrogate Sherlock; she wasn't wrong.

"Okay, what is up with you?"

"There is just no winning with you. When I'm rude, you're unhappy. When I'm polite, you're unhappy."

"Yeah, that's because I know you Sherlock. You're never polite for no reason."

"I never said it was for no reason."

"Well than what is it Sherlock?" John paused looking at Sherlock exasperatedly, "Sherlock, we talked about this, I really care about this girl. I thought you said it was better…"

"I did," Sherlock interrupted, "Has it ever occurred to you that this is me trying?"

John regarded him. "I hope it is." John got up and left the room. As he left the room, he couldn't see Sherlock's self satisfied smile. There were still many pitfalls to maneuver, but it seemed as if everything might work out. Really he shouldn't worry, but people in love could be so tricky at times,

Meanwhile the aforementioned people in love were going at it in the shower. John loved the look of the water cascading over Elanor's supple skin. She pushed back into John's thrusting hips and questing fingers. After a few more minutes, they came together in quick succession, her orgasm setting off his. They both got dressed and ready for the day. Elanor threw on a pair of form fitting cords and a slouchy sweater that hung off of one shoulder. John came up behind her when she was finished an caressed her shoulder kissing her neck. "Why is it every time you get dressed all I want to do is strip you again."

Elanor laughed, leaning into his caresses. "It's not my fault you've go the libido of an eighteen year old boy."

"Mmmm, as if you're much better."

"Come on John, let's go downstairs before we wind up staying here all day."

"All right. There's a great zoo in Soho. I've heard it's got a lot of the animals living in rooms made up to look like castles."

She turned and pecked him on the lips, "Sounds lovely."

He returned the kiss deepening it. She brought her hands up to clutch the back of John's head as he kissed his way down her neck. "Course pandas in palaces could wait another 30 minutes."

"Bet I can get you off twice in twenty," John replied picking her giggling form up and carrying her to the bed.

Elanor and John spent a lovely but unexciting day together. In fact they spent the whole next week doing coupley things and shagging each other's brains out. It became standard for them to spend weekdays at Elanor's house and weekends at John's. Sherlock continued to be unsettlingly polite, and Elanor vacillated between returning his kind manners, and responding with prickly quick wit. Sherlock strangely enough seemed to enjoy both responses equally. Elanor began to ask John questions about the BDSM books that he was sending home with her. In truth she found them mostly self explanatory, and just wanted to get herself used to talking about these things out loud.

Presumably John realized this and starting on Wednesday he began sending her home with checklists. She was to research the things on the checklist and come back prepared to talk to John about whether she was interested, uninterested, or unsure about the things on the checklist. The activities ran all the way from handcuffs to humiliation to scat (she answered very, quite, and hell no, to those three by the way). John in return usually let her know what his interest level in the various activities. For the most part luckily their kinks seemed to wind up. The most common thing that would happen would be that John would be very interested in something while Elanor would list herself as merely curious. But she put that down to the fact that John was more experience than she was, she simply didn't know what she liked in the BDSM world…yet. Each of these discussions was usually followed by a wildly enthusiastic round of shagging. Truth be told, they both spent most of their days horny. Elanor masturbated several times a day, even with all the sex she was having. She simply had so much new fantasy material. Fantasies she disliked admitting that didn't always feature John. As much as she tried to stop herself, once or twice she found herself fantasizing about Sherlock, even thinking about him to completion. She just hoped she could scrub the evidence of it off her face before she saw Sherlock again.

Friday when she went to meet John for their date, and Sherlock answered the knock on the door, the self-satisfied smile on his face told her she hadn't been entirely successful. Well screw him, everyone had fantasies. Luckily Sherlock didn't say anything, he just ushered her inside and told her to have a seat, John would be down in a minute. Meanwhile John had decided that though it was early, it was time. It was time to tell Elanor he loved her. He really did, and he wanted to let her know before they started acting out d/s scenes. And he thought they should start those next week.

He finished tying his tie and tromped down the stairs to find Elanor waiting in the living room. "Evening, Elanor. I'm so sorry I couldn't get off of the hospital earlier."

She got up and kissed him, "How dare you. Too busy saving lives to pick me up," she said smiling and mock hitting him.

"More like curing a couple colds. And that's no excuse, I can't leave you alone in a dress like that. You look lovely." John returned her smile and lead her downstairs to dinner. Sherlock sat in his chair silently agreeing.


	12. Powder Blue Handcuffs

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock. I'm not making money from this.

Chapter: Elanor and John have their first BDSM scene together. (Side note, I know I haven't mentioned this in other chapters, but Elanor and John have one another "I love you," before.)

Elanor and John had decided that Friday would be a good day to start trying d/s scenes together. They agreed that due to their past experiences, it would be better not to try and go on a date first. After a slightly uncomfortable talk in which John informed her that Sherlock was already aware of his preferences, so he wouldn't be alarmed by anything he heard or observed. And Mrs. Hudson's apartment had been soundproofed by Sherlock ages ago when Mrs. Hudson was having trouble sleeping, so they didn't need to worry about giving the elderly landlady a coronary. Besides, all John's equipment was at his place. They wouldn't be needing much for their first go around, but it was best to decide things like this at the start. John had decided that Elanor would react best to some simple handcuffs, orders, and calling John sir, as starters. If any punishment was needed, only light spanking would be used, and no more than five at a time. Truth be told he preferred using nylon rope to tie girls up, but the easy release of hand cuffs would be more comforting to Elanor. And he did have some padded ones. He told her that these were the things he planned to employ their first time around. He explained that he wouldn't always tell her these things in advance, but that to calm her nerves the first few times around he'd let her know what techniques he planned to use. But even when he didn't let her know ahead of time, she always had her safe words (red and yellow), he'd proceed with caution, and that he'd always keep her limits and interests in mind.

She let him know that she trusted him, and appreciated that he was trying to make this as comfortable as possible for her. And she did. But that didn't stop her from being nervous Thursday and especially Friday. She got particularly worried as she didn't have the comfort of having John with her Thursday evening because a case with Sherlock ran long. But come Friday evening as she got herself ready, she reminded herself that John was steady and trustworthy, and most of all knew what he was doing.

Still she found her hands shaking just a bit when she met John at his place. Sherlock opened the door, why was it always Sherlock? She knew, of course she knew. John often ran long at the hospital, and he hated changing times on her. Especially when he knew it would only mean 5 or 10 minutes of waiting for her. Okay, it did bother him, but she had told him to stop worrying. But as Sherlock opened the door and she saw him take in her shaking hands, she began to regret that decision. "Come in. John's just finishing his shower."

Elanor followed him in and sat down in the chair heavily. "No, need to be nervous you know," God, but she had really hoped his politeness would extend far enough not to mention what she and John had planned for the evening, "First time subs always are you know. That's why I always partook of the more experienced girls. But John's far more patient, he'll take good care of you." In her shock she found herself simply staring at Sherlock. He handed her a pre-made cup of tea as he continued to talk. "And I'm sure you'll do very well. You're a natural you know." Elanor's brain felt like it was slogging through molasses trying to keep up with the deluge of sexual admissions Sherlock was throwing at her. By god, she couldn't believe it he was a…not only was he not a virgin, he was a dom. A fucking dom. Sherlock.

"Y-You're a-"

"Dominant, yes. Has John not mentioned that?"

"No, I…it hasn't come up."

Sherlock sat in the chair across from her. "Put down your cup," he said firmly. She set her clanking cup on the side table. "Look at me," she met his eyes as he took both her hands in his. Oh this was so weird. This was so not what Sherlock Holmes was supposed to be like. "Relaaax," he said slowly. She found the tension releasing from her shoulders. "John is going to take good care of you. He is very good."

"How do you kn-" she protested.

He squeezed her hands, "I observe, Elanor. Trust me, this will be all right." And she did. She trusted John, and stranger still she trusted Sherlock. She nodded. "And you will enjoy this," he said smiling that crooked smirk of his.

"How do you-" Sherlock simply raised his eyebrow at her and she quieted.

"I will won't I?" she asked looking for reassurance in his eyes.

He nodded, "Like I said, you're a natural." He slowly pulled his hands back from hers just before John came through the living room door.

"Ready?" John asked Elanor, his eyes conveying a million things.

Elanor nodded, not trusting herself to look at Sherlock. "Yes, John." She stood and walked over to John. John took his hand in hers.

"Don't be nervous," he said, in a tone completely different from Sherlock's that somehow achieved the same thing. She felt the tension ease from her shoulders and she smiled up at him.

"Not with you," she replied.

The happiness in his eyes at her reply was almost more than she could handle. He kissed her firmly on the lips. "I love you," he said tenderly before leading her upstairs.

"I love you too," she replied honestly, squeezing his hand.

He led her to the bedroom and closed the door behind them. When she walked in she saw the handcuffs lying on the bed. The were light blue, padded and innocuous looking. She turned and smiled at John, he really did think of everything. "Thank you," she said kissing him. That little act banished what little fear was left, only a bit of nervousness remained. That and arousal. She found her arousal spiking higher as John's features took on a commanding tone.

"Are you ready?" he asked, placing his hands on her hips.

"Yes," she replied.

"What is the code for slow down?"

"Yellow."

"What word means stop?"

"Red."

"Good, don't be afraid to use them if you need to." His chin thrust higher in a way she had only previously seen when he was irritated or talking about orders he'd given in his past military service, "And what are you to call me, Elanor?"

"Sir."

"That's a girl," he murmured, his eyes roaming her body and thumbs caressing her sides. "What are you wearing for me underneath this pretty little dress I wonder?"

"Oh, John," she moaned leaning her body towards his. Before she could connect their bodies, John took a step back and she felt his hand come down in a light slap against her rear. "Oh!" she let out a shocked little cry. Her eyes flicked up to find John's face entirely changed from the sweet one she was used to. She could see all his pent up power in the hardness of his eyes. She shivered and moaned. He arched a brow and she felt one of his hands distinctively leave her hips.

"Sir! Sir," she called out realizing what he wanted.

"I'm sorry what?" he said teasingly.

She bit her lip, attempting to look demure despite the lust surging through her body, "Sir. I'm meant to call you sir."

"Good," he affirmed drawing her pelvis to his. She immediately began pressing herself against him. She didn't think she'd ever been so turned on so much so quickly, but then that was something she found herself thinking frequently with John.

"Please," she rubbed against him.

"So eager," he chuckled in her ear. "Strip," he commanded firmly, stepping away from her.

"What?" she asked, her eyes hazy with lust.

He simply backed up and sat in his bedroom chair. "Down to your underwear."

For anyone else she would've been nervous. But the lust in John's eyes wanted to make her do things. So she began to unbutton her shirt dress. She did it slowly taking in every drop of John's expression. She continued until she had reached the last button on her dress. She shrugged the garment off and threw it across the room. She smoothed her hands down her slip to the edge where she gripped the hem and drew it slowly over her head. She threw it across the room and was left in only her midnight blue matching panties and bra, and her midnight blue heels, which complimented the cuffs John had provided curiously well. She toed off the heels, and stood before John waiting for more instructions. His eyes roamed her body hungrily.

"Bra too," he ordered huskily. She obeyed, bringing her hands up behind her back and undoing to clasp. She leant forward cupping her breasts so that the bra didn't fall off, but John got a lovely eyeful of her ample tits. Then she stood up and slowly dropped her arms, revealing herself. John still couldn't seem to get over the perfection of her body. Every time he saw it, it was like the first time all over again.

"Walk towards me." She did so, breasts swaying pendulously. She came to a stop in front of him. "Straddle me, Elanor."

"Yes, sir." She complied happily and kneeled over John. She felt the effect she'd had on John immediately. She moaned and ground down against John. John's hands cupped her ass and he controlled her wild thrusting, refining it to a slow grind. "Hands stay on the chair," he commanded, before latching his mouth on to one of her nipples. She clutched the chair in a death grip as lust overcame her and she cried out, "John!"

John's hand came down against her ass, harder than last time. She jumped and then moaned. "Sir, please, sir. I need…"

"What, Elanor? What do you need. Do you need me to let you dry hump yourself to completion on my lap? Or would you prefer that I shoved my greedy fingers in your panties and did the job myself?"

"Yes, yes sir."

"I don't know, you're so worked up, maybe I could just talk you to orgasm."

"Unh."

"Or I could spank you to one. I'll certainly do that one day." Her sharp intake of breath told him all he needed to know about how much she would enjoy that particular scenario. "What if I fucked you, with my long, hard, cock?"

"Please, sir."

"You always seem to be such a fan of that. Do you feel empty without me?"

"Yes, yes, sir. So empty. I need…I need it."

"What do you need Elanor?"

"Your cock, your fingers, your tongue. Anything, sir. Anything!"

"Mmmm, so needy. I love you when you're like this."

"Please, sir. Please, sir. Please, sir. I need you," she rubbed herself against him desperately. In response he pulled her pelvis tightly to his so she couldn't rub against him for friction. She whimpered at the loss, "Please, sir."

"Stop topping from the bottom," he said, a teasing sparkle in his eyes.

If she was any less frantically horny, she would have laughed. As it was all she managed to go was grip the chair harder and drop her head on top of his. "Oh god, pleeeaaase sir! Fuck me, just fuck me sir. I'll do anything, sir. Just please let me cum, sir. Fuck, please!"

"Mmmh," he laughed and thankfully traced the fingers of one hand from her ass down the front of her panties. "We're gonna have to work on your stamina." His index finger began to rub her clit. She moaned in relief. "But you do beg so prettily."

"Yes, yes, sir. I need it."

"Good girl. I think you deserve an orgasm for being such a good girl." John's voice was driving her insane. The level of confident command in his voice made her weak at the knees. She had known he was a dom, but she didn't think she'd fully understood what a good dom he was until this moment. Good god, sex with Watson had been the best sex she'd ever had by a mile but this, this, was sending her to levels she didn't know and she hadn't even cum yet.

John's fingers began to pick up the pace. "Oh god John! Oh god sir! I'm gonna cum! Oh god sir! Please! Please! Let me cum!"

"That's it dirty girl," he murmured in her ear lowly as she all but screamed in his. "You like it when I fuck you with my fingers? You gonna cum for me? Come on ride my fingers. Fuck yourself on my fingers Elanor. Give in. Cum for me. Come on, show me how you cum."

"Ah, ah, aaaah!" she shouted cumming all over his fingers. She saw stars burst behind her eyes as she came for John. Her body bowed and she shook violently as she came down. "Oh god, oh god, oh god," she murmured breathlessly her head falling into the crook of John's neck. "How do you keep doing this? It gets better every time. Oh god."

John smoothed his hands over her back soothingly. He smiled against her hair. "Remind me why I don't just fuck you 24/7? You say the nicest things."

She laughed. "Well they're true. And trust me if our sexual organs could handle it, I think we would be fucking 24/7."

He laughed brightly and sighed. "Oh, I thought I was supposed to outgrow this when I was a teenager."

"Apparently not. Not when we're together anyway."

"Mmmm," he nuzzled her hair.

"Speaking of sexual organs," she swiveled her hips against his hard-on, "Is there something I can take care of for you."

"Oh no," he grunted scooting to the end of the chair. He stood up gripping her ass with her legs around his waist, and carried her to the bed. "We're not even close to finished." He laid her down on the bed gently. "Put your arms above your head," he said soothing tone gone, and commanding tone back in full swing. She complied, putting her hands above her head. John grabbed the cuffs from the side of the bed and straddled her. He cuffed one wrist, looped the chain through the headboard, and cuffed the other wrist.

"Color?"

"Green, sir." She tested the bonds, pulling on them. "Oh god, so green, sir." She was shocked at how much she loved the feeling of being bound. And apparently she wasn't the only one, she thought looking up at Watson. Watson's eyes were aflame with lust, looking down at her bound beneath him. The look in his eyes had her writhing all over again. He leaned down and kissed gently. The sweet kiss contrasted strongly with the naughty feeling of being bound. "God why does this feel so good she muttered?" she muttered as he kissed his way down her neck.

"I don't know. But I don't think you've ever looked so fucking hot." He stripped her panties, much to Elanor's enjoyment. "Spread your legs."

She moaned and spread them immediately. She was so amazingly turned on by the feeling of John against her, still fully clothed. She rubbed against him, somehow already desperate to cum again.

"Ah, I need to be in you. You look so beautiful like this, spread out beneath me. You're all fucking mine." He bit her neck, "All mine. Every delicious inch of you."

"Yes, please. Please, sir. I'm all fucking yours. Just fuck me, fuck me now."

John reached down, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his cock. "God yes. Please sir!"

"That's it. Beg me like a needy slut." He guided his dick into her. John and Elanor both moaned loudly at the feeling of being joined. He used one hand to support himself and wrapped the other around Elanor's bound wrists. She was acutely aware of how helpless she felt, and how much that turned her on. "Oh god, oh god, oh god. Sir, sir you feel so good in me."

"Elanor you're so tight. Fuck, so good. I should keep you bound in my bed all the time. You'd spread your pretty fuckin' legs for me any time I asked wouldn't you."

"Yes, yes sir! I'm your slut, only yours! Ah, ah! Oh god sir, I'm getting close again."

"Me too, Elanor. Me too. Shit. God I love you. Oh god, Elanor!"

Elanor found herself beginning to contract around John's cock. He was rubbing all the right places inside of her. And John couldn't handle the way Elanor's pussy was gripping him. It took everything he had to hold off until he felt her cum to let go. He finally felt her arch into him and cry out. "Fuck," he called. His eyes squeezed shut and he spilled into her, his whole world going white for a moment. They both simply laid against one another for a moment, breathing heavily. Eventually John rolled off Elanor and unbound her wrists.

"That. Was."

"Amazing," John agreed.

Good god Elanor thought if, everything they tried was half this amazing, she was going to really like the d/s world.


	13. Grumpy Cat

Elanor awoke in the morning, an hour before John as always. She smiled to herself, remembering the past night. She carefully rolled out from under the arm John had looped around her waist. She went and grabbed a quick shower, still smiling, before going downstairs for breakfast. She made tea and toast for Sherlock and herself, as was becoming usual.

She plopped down in the seat opposite Sherlock with a book, and was startled out of thinking about the amazing sex she'd had with John last night for the fiftieth time this morning. "Stop it," Sherlock muttered, not looking up from his book.

"What?" she asked startled.

"Stop thinking about the sex you and John had last night. It's distracting."

"How did you kn-" Sherlock glared at her over the book.

"Fine, I'll…I'll do my best."

"Thank you," Sherlock replied, his gaze returning to his book.

Elanor tried, she really did. But you can't understand, this was really fucking good sex. I mean, really, really, good. You don't have amazing sex and not think about it the next morning.

"Stop. It." She heard Sherlock growl through gritted teeth.

"Look I'm trying Sherlock."

"Well you're doing a shit job," he said glaring at her again.

"My god," she said slamming down her book, "What happened to nice Sherlock?"

"You didn't trust nice Sherlock."

"You're grumpy." Elanor stated. The fact that Sherlock averted his gaze back to his book with little more than a derisive snort spoke volumes. "Why are you so grumpy?" she said as much to herself as to him. She examined him intently trying to do a bit of deducing of her own. He was holding his book awfully low. That was weird. He almost looked, a bit ashamed. Unfortunately she didn't have time to finish deducing as John came into the living room at that moment. Whatever, it probably wasn't important, just Sherlock being Sherlock. "Hey honey," she said springing up and throwing her arms around John, giving him a big kiss.

John returned her kiss amorously and soon it was morphing into something that neither one of them had originally intended. Elanor broke the kiss with a giggle. "You wanna go upstairs," she whispered in his ear. John bit her earlobe in response. Elanor giggled again and they ran back up to John's room holding hands. Sherlock grumbled to himself and pulled his legs up to his chest. He was beginning to understand why John became so grumpy between shaggings. With Elanor around he was having more difficulty than usual compartmentalizing his urges. His brain whirred trying to think of a way to speed his plan up quicker. However he couldn't seem to think of a way. He huffed and threw his book down in his chair. He stomped his feet like an annoyed child as he went off to his room to take care of his 'little' problem.

John and Elanor spent Saturday together enjoying one another's company. Half of the day was spent shagging one another rotten, while the other half was spent lazing around the apartment watching movies and bad telly. Luckily Sherlock was out on a case all day, so Elanor felt even less inhibited about screaming John's praises to the heavens. Come Sunday, Sherlock needed John's help on the case, so Elanor was summarily booted out. Honestly certain parts of her anatomy were happy about that fact. Sherlock might be the only thing that would keep John and her sexual parts in working order, because their self control sure as hell wasn't going to help them any. She was sure if she was in the apartment, she and John would still be fucking one another.

And who could blame her? If John was amazing at 'vanilla' sex he was out of this world fantastic at kinky sex. He knew just how much to tease her, just where to push. The look of lust in his eyes whenever he tied her up practically made her cum on the spot. And his voice when he issued commands, god, it was, she hated to use this term, but the most alpha male thing she'd ever heard. He'd had her cumming at things she'd never imagined before. She'd cum while sucking his cock with him grumbling filthy instructions to her. That one had taken her by surprise. Her hips had been humping dry air for a good 10 minutes before he finally instructed her to touch herself. She only had to rub her clit once before she fell apart, shouting around John's cock.

And she knew this was only the tip of the iceberg. He'd sent her home with some more reading material and set up a phone date for them to discuss it on Tuesday. Then they had a lunch date Wednesday and that night she'd come back to the apartment to act out another scene, provided he'd finished the case with Sherlock by then. She shuddered happily think of all the things she'd get to explore with John. If he was half as good with whips and nipple clamps as he was with ropes and orders, she had a feeling she was in for a treat.

She spent half of her Sunday diving into the material John had given her, and the other half writing. However, her last thought when she went to bed that night wasn't of John, but of Sherlock and his curious reaction Saturday morning. By the time she fell asleep, she'd formulated a hypothesis. But it was too ridiculous to consider.


	14. In Stitches

Disclaimer: Don't own, no money made.

A/N: Sorry about the updating slowness. I've got 2 stories going, and am glacially slow.

Chap 14: Finally some Sherlock/Elanor intrigue.

It turned out that she wouldn't see John until Thursday. They had only been able to speak briefly on Tuesday, before Sherlock had berated John back to work. And the case was still going on as of Wednesday, so they couldn't meet them. Lunch was lonely with out John. As much as she wanted to discuss the in depth reading material he had given her, it was his warm smile and stories she really missed. She was surprised at how quickly John had begun to feel like a fixture in her life. She still wasn't quite used to missing him like this. But he was doing good for the community. So was Sherlock as much as he could be a bit abrasive at times, she understood. And so she ate her lunch in silence, comforted by the fact that even if it meant he was away, John was doing important things.

In fact what John was doing was getting the living hell beat out of him by two opponents, along with Sherlock who had taken on three. John was good in a fight, but he couldn't take on two skilled fighters at once. He'd already taken on a black eye, as well as a few hits to the stomach. But Lestrade was due to show up any minute in fact, speak of the devil, there he was. As the crooks put their hands in the air, John felt the adrenaline start to leak out of him and his shoulders sagged. Sherloack on the other hand, although sporting more than a few bruises himself, look ready for another round.

Once Lestrade had taken their statements and Sherlock's quick fire explanation, he let them know that they were free to go home. Not a minute too soon for John, who just wanted to sleep, now that the adrenaline was really wearing off. They got home and sure enough he ended up passed out on the sofa, too tired to even make it upstairs to his bed. Sherlock on the other hand, paced the room, still too lit up to go to sleep. He winced as his side twinged, and then smiled, he knew what could keep him occupied. Feeling more than a bit mischievous, he slid John's phone out of his pocket and dialed Elanor's number.

Elanor showed up at the apartment just 20 minutes later, having rushed over, to find the scene far worse than she had envisaged. Sherlock had told her that John had had a rough night, and might be in need of some TLC. Elanor was suspicious of the fact that it was Sherlock and not John telling her this news, but she couldn't bear the idea of John hurting alone, and so she had hurried over. She walked in to 221b to find John passed out on the couch with obvious bruises forming, and Sherlock sitting in his chair looking even worse than John.

"Sherlock what the hell happened?" Elanor whispered urgently.

"The case," Sherlock said simply.

Elanor in no mood for games, crossed her arms and glared at Sherlock, "A little more detail please."

Sherlock waited a moment before raising an eyebrow and acquiescing. "I underestimated the size of a particular gang we were after. There were some variables I was not privy to. John and I were out numbered."

"God Sherlock, I know John and you thrive on this but.- are you still bleeding?" Sherlock looked down at the blood seeping through his shirt.

"It would appear so."

"Jeez Sherlock, at least let John bandage you up."

"John is sleeping."

"Well then at least let me help. Take your shirt off. Where are your bandages."

"Kitchen, closest drawer, there's a swering kit as well."

"A sewing? Oh no Sherlock, I am not stitching you up."

"If not you then who?"

"How about a doctor?" Sherlock made a scoffing sound, to indicate his opinion of waiting in a waiting room for such a minor injusry.

"You'll be fine Elanor," Sherlock insisted.

Elanor just sighed and got out the bandages, hoping that they would be enough. By the time she turned around, Sherlock had already removed his shirt. Elanor tried not to let her jaw drop, but she was sure Sherlock didn't miss the way her eyes drifted over her torso. As beautifully lithe as he appeared with his form-fitting purple shirt on, he was even more so with it off. His long lean muscles were relaxed as he lounged in his chair, and his pale skin glowed in the moonlight. Once Elanor got herself back together, she began to notice that he was littered with cuts and bruises, and there was a particularly nasty gash on his right arm. Elanor hated to admit it, but that gash did look like it was going to need stitches.

She sighed and got to work, trying to ignore Sherlock's beautiful skin beneath her fingers. She applied butterfly bandages to the bigger cuts, and attempted to do the same with the gash. After the third bloodied bandaid ended up in the trash can, Sherlock voiced what she had been thinking, "It's not going to work."

"Sherlock I-"

"You have to stitch me up. Don't worry, I'll guide you through the whole thing."

Elanor started to speak, to argue, but was silenced by a look from Sherlock. She sighed, there really was no arguing with him. She got up resignedly and fetched the needle and thread from the drawer. She threaded the needle trying not to think about the fact that she was going to be driving it into his skin soon. She stalled, failing to thread the needle before Sherlock grabbed it impatiently from her hands and threaded it himself. He returned the needle to her hands, clasping them in his own. He locked on to her eyes with his mercurial blue eyes, and said very seriously, "You can do this."

Elanor blew out a breath, and made the first stick into his arm. To his credit Sherlock didn't wince. He instructed her in how to give him the couple stitches, and before she knew it she was done. She snipped the thread and knotted it. And just then as she looked down she saw it. Sherlock had a boner. He was getting fucking turned on. This time she couldn't stop her mouth from dropping open.

"Happens sometimes. I do tend to enjoy a bit of pain every now and then." He pinned her with his eyes, "I'm sure you know the feeling."

Elanor gasped and blushed. Sherlock cupped her face in one hand while he palmed himself with his other hand and groaned. "That's it. That blush, gorgeous." He tipped her chin up to examine her face. "I'd wager you look like that when you cum." Suddenly his words snapped her out of Sherlock's spell, and she jerked back.

"This is inappropriate Sherlock. So inappropriate. I'm with John."

"Why does that matter?"

"It-it matters because…Sherlock it's just wrong."

Sherlock simply nodded, "I'll be in my room. John should wake up in the next half hour."


	15. I Propose a Solution

John did indeed wake up 30 minutes later. Elanor patched him up like she had Sherlock. Luckily John didn't need any stitches. And Elanor was certainly less flustered patching him up. Although, there was still something attractive about the way John let her take care of him. She ended up listening to his watered down retelling of his and Sherlock's most recent case, while he let her smooth bandages over his various cuts. Once she had patched up all of his cuts, and Watson had told his tale, Elanor started slowly kissing every one of his bruises. John pulled her onto the couch with him for a sweet kiss. They eventually wound up spooning on the slender couch as John drifted back to sleep.

Elanor slowly combed her fingers through his hair as he drifted off. While he slept, she examined his sweet face, and wished she could make the bruises that covered it magically disappear. She supposed that bandaging up her boys was the second best thing. Just as she drifted off, she had enough time to wonder when she had begun to refer to John and Sherlock as "her boys."

When Elanor woke in the morning she had every intention of talking to John about what had happened the night before with Sherlock, but as it turned out he'd left her a note saying there had been an emergency at the hospital that they'd needed his help on. So she woke up to find Sherlock staring at her.

"You talk in your sleep," he deadpanned.

"I know," she groaned, definitely feeling her night on the couch in her neck. She rubbed her neck sitting up.

"It was very…enlightening."

"Ugh, Sherlock I'm not playing this game. I don't know what you're trying to do. Prove that I'm unfaithful? Untrustworthy? Well I'm not. John and I are together. But I'm not trying to take him away from you, if that's what you're worried about."

At her frustration, Sherlock's face, surprisingly softened. "I assure you, breaking up your relationship is not at all my goal. In fact nothing could be further. I wish your relationship to remain intact, in fact I am looking to strengthen it."

"How?" Elanor asked suspiciously.

"There are things missing from your relationship. Admit it, at times you wish for someone different in your bed."

"No I-"

"I heard you. You have very," his gaze wandered over her body, "Vivid dreams. Besides it's been written on your face for weeks. Please save yourself the embarrassment of having me deduce you and admit it." Elanor hesitated. Sherlock took a deep breath, "Your left hand shows evidence of-"

"Okay, okay," she said frantically, "Say I- say you're right. John's still my boyfriend. He's the one I love."

"John may be more amenable than you would think to a polyamorous relationship." Elanor's eyes widened at 'polyamorous'. There it was, out in the open. What Sherlock's end game was.

"Why?"

"Why what? Why now? Why you?" Elanor nodded. "Finding one who is amenable to this lifestyle is difficult. Furthermore while I make an excellent dom, I have no interest in being a boyfriend. However I have certain, jelous tendencies. Therefore the best situation is the one we have at hand. John, whom I am not jealous of, is set up to take care of your emotional needs, while I am attracted to you, and find you interesting enough to be interested in engaging you in the bedroom."

"That was rather-"

"I prefer to flatter in more intimate situations." He said, his voice lowering to a purr. "Now is the time for plain facts. I wish you to make a clear headed choice, with the situation laid out plainly for you."

A thrill went through Elanor at the thought of her and Sherlock in a more "intimate situation". "But what about John?"

"Is that a yes?" Sherlock asked raising an eyebrow.

Elanor bit her lip. "Provided two things."

"Name your stipulations," Sherlock acquiesced warily.

"One, John has to be 100% okay with it."

"I can promise 90."

"Done. Two, you don't have to act like my boyfriend, but I don't want our only contact to be in the bedroom. Once a week, I want to either go out, or stay in on a date with you."

"Wouldn't that make me your boyfriend?"

"No. Being a boyfriend is more than dating. I'm not asking you to be there for me if something bad happens, or to be the one I share with when something great happens. I'm not asking you to bare your soul to me. I just want us to be friends."

Sherlock thought, "And this is…"

"Non-negotiable, yes."

"These are your only terms."

"Yes."

"And you will not be angry if I am," he paused, "Unlike John, in our friendship."

"I would be disappointed if you were, that's not you."

Sherlock let a small smile escape him, "Then I accept."

"Still, what about John."

"Let me worry about John. I ask only this of you, that you do not tell him about our conversation, and that you accompany us on a case this weekend."

Feeling slightly like she was making a deal with the devil, Elanor nodded, "I can do that."

This time Sherlock smiled genuinely and widely, "Excellent."


	16. Decided On a Case by Case Basis

Disclaimer- Still don't own, not Sherlock, not John, not anything but my own storyline.

Chapter 15: It's happening! Finally (no smut yet, well a little smut, but no full on smut) the three get together!

Much to Elanor's surprise, Sherlock did not double cross her over the next few days. She began to think that maybe his intentions were exactly what he had told her, for the three of them to have a relationship. The more she mulled it over, the more unbelievable it seemed. Having one wonderful man, John was lucky, amazing, she should be thankful. Having two seemed, selfish. Not that she was going to turn it down, not in a million years. Who would? Sherlock was stunning, a curiosity, and she couldn't imagine what he could do to a woman's body considering his deductive powers. She had definitely soaked through a few pairs of panties thinking about what it would be like if Sherlock's plan really worked.

But while there was a part of her that trusted in Sherlock's determination when he wanted something, the idea that he wanted a threesome relationship with her was too good to believe. So she decided not to get her hopes up. She decided that she'd believe it when it happened. And it would be happening soon. Friday came quickly. Somehow Sherlock had convinced John to clear Elanor for another case, and Elanor had certainly agreed. So Elanor awoke Friday, the day of the case, with butterflies in her stomach. What was going to happen tonight?

Apparently tonight they were going in after a mob boss. She and Sherlock were going to have dinner with him while John hung back with his side arm, just in case. At least the getup Sherlock had her in this time was a bit more modest. If she were truthful, it was actually rather gorgeous. He had her in a black swirly dress with a sweetheart neckline and sparkles around her waist.

Before leaving John pulled her aside and cupped her face in his hands. "You alright?" he asked seriously. Elanor nodded and he pulled you in for a hug. "Because you don't have to do this," he murmured into her hair. You pulled back and searched his face, "Are you okay with this John?" "Yeah," John answered immediately, which soothed Elanor. "It'll be a little weird you playing Sherlock's girlfriend, but it'll be fine." Elanor didn't mention that he'd seen Sherlock do a lot more to her the last case they'd been on. She just hoped Sherlock knew what he was doing. She kissed John deeply, and hoped that she wasn't about to make him mad. But as she stepped back and looked at her boys, her heart fluttered, and she knew she was doing the right thing. This weird triangle they had going on was not sustainable. The three of them together, she'd thought about it all night, it was right. It was odd but…right.

Her boys, they really did look a sight tonight. John looked his most formidable in his jacket with the leather patches. And Sherlock looked straight out of GQ in a black suit with a white shirt. She really hoped this worked. It felt greedy to hope for so much, but she hoped for it nonetheless.

They headed down the stairs with Elanor in the middle. John, ever the gentleman walked in front, ready to catch her if she tripped on the elaborate silver shoes Sherlock had provided for her, while Sherlock walked behind her where she could feel the tension radiating off of him. She supposed he was more pent up than he had let on. Once they reached the bottom of the stairs John pecked her on the lips and headed out ahead of them as planned.

That left her alone with Sherlock. Which while it wasn't unusual, it felt different. She didn't have long to think about it before she was up against a wall, Sherlock's hand in her hair. Sherlock pressed his surprisingly soft lips to hers, molding his tall, lithe body against hers. "Mph," she protested, "John!" her mind yelled. Sherlock pulled back minutely, his eyes glazed. "Permission, I've got permission." He leaned back in, but Elanor stopped his lips with her hand.

"What kind of-"

"Full permission. Permission for this."

"Wait, does John-"

"You. Are. Not. Cheating. God what other way do I have to say it?!" he muttered frustratedly, pinning her wrists above her head, and kissing her soundly. Elanor's mind was aflutter with questions but ultimately she trusted Sherlock, and he was doing what he was doing far to well for her to ignore him any longer.

She moaned and opened her mouth to his, pressing her body up to meet him. Sherlock grunted an pushed back with more force, really pinning her to the wall now. He poured out his pent up need into her, wanting nothing more than to fuck her against the wall. But he was nothing if not disciplined, and he was going to stick to the plan if it killed him. God, it felt like it was going to kill him. He let himself go on like this for another minute before pulling back to look at Elanor. She looked up at him with glazed eyes and kiss swollen lips. He slowly removed one hand from her wrist. "Stay," he murmured lowly, trapping her with his eyes. She gulped and nodded. He slowly traced his fingers down Elanor's arm to her collar bone, across there to the center of her chest, down between her breasts (where Elanor shuddered) to her waist. "Now," he said lowly, "Behave. Act as my girlfriend, as your would with John, do not worry about permission, follow my lead and everything will be okay. Is that understood?" Elanor shuddered again, she loved it when he ordered her about.

"Yes," she replied breathily. Sherlock raised a brow. He was going for "yes sir." But she couldn't do that, sir was John's name. Then she suddenly knew what was right, what name would be Sherlock's. "Yes, master, " she replied.

Sherlock's eyes turned the color of the center of a flame, and suddenly he was on her again. She supposed that she'd chosen correctly. After another couple minutes Sherlock bodily wrenched himself from her and backed up a couple steps, breathing heavily. Elanor smiled, causing such a reaction from Sherlock Holmes made her feel…powerful. Sherlock chuckled at her expression, still breathing heavily, "Minx." Elanor simply smiled wider. Sherlock straightened up tugged on his coat and in a perfunctory manner, tucked his obvious erection into the waistband of his underwear. "Let's go," he said holding his hand out to her. She took it, which somehow felt odder than kissing him had. They hailed a cab and in moments they were off to see a mob boss.

This was a fact that Elanor was just now truly having time to contemplate. As she began to get nervous, Sherlock reached over and squeezed her hand. He continued to look out the window, but also continued to hold her hand. She supposed that although he wanted to comfort her, he also had his façade to keep up. She smiled and gently squeezed his hand back.

They arrived at the restaurant in what felt to Elanor like no time at all. As the cab stopped Elanor straightened her shoulders and told herself she could do this. She went for the door handle only to already find Sherlock opening the door for her, his "friendly face" on. She didn't like it. She understood the appeal of seeing Sherlock's face open and boyish, but she knew it wasn't really him. Somehow when she saw it, she always felt as if he were lying to her directly, even if logically she knew that wasn't so. Sherlock dropped his face momentarily back to his normal icy mask, to say "I know," before smiling again and lifting his brows. This time Elanor smiled. As long as Sherlock knew that _she_ knew it wasn't really him, it somehow lessened the feeling that she was being lied to.

She tried to keep her smile as genuine as possible as she stepped out of the

car. Inside the restaurant, as the hostess made googly eyes at Sherlock, Elanor found it harder to keep her smile in place, until Sherlock wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him and clearly marking his territory. She relaxed into his arm and reminded herself that above all she had Sherlock and John watching out for her. She couldn't be safer.

Two hours later, tied to a chair beside John wondering where the _hell_ Sherlock was, she realized she couldn't have been more wrong. Despite she and Sherlock acting plenty lovey at the restaurant, and Sherlock's smooth talking, it seemed they'd seen through their act. Elanor suspected that they'd tailed both her and Sherlock earlier in the week, had discovered her with John and become suspicious. She definitely knew this was the case when one of their lookouts caught John in his snipers position one building over. Sherlock had managed to slip away in some of the confusion of switching over to the mobster's hideout, but hadn't been able to drag Elanor along with him.

"I'm so sorry Elanor, god I knew I shouldn't have dragged you into this. But no I just had to listen to Sherlock. I swear if we get out of this I'm never taking you on a case again. It's just the last one worked out so well and…"

"John! John, it's fine. It's not your fault! True I am a little freaked right now, but I'm sure Sherlock has it under control." Days later, Elanor would find out that Sherlock did not have it under control, at which point she would throw a pillow at his head. "He'll be here any second, I bet." He was not there any second.

"Yeah, you're right. Look Sherlock and I have been in loads of tight spots before, and we've always managed to make it out."

And an hour later, with the help of both Sherlock and Lestrade, they did manage to make it out. Sherlock pulled off something very clever, with a fire alarm, some bolt cutters and net. But Elanor knew that he had been worried his plan wouldn't work when he had begun to kiss her the moment she was unbound. He rained kisses all over her face and neck as if assuring himself she was really there. She hadn't guessed at either the depth of his affection or how much trouble they had really been in until that moment.

Without thinking about John or Lestrade whose eyes were bugging out in the corner, she threw her arms around Sherlock's neck and kissed him back needily, pressing her body to his wanting to feel him there, solid and safe.

John meanwhile was standing next to Lestrade, as his whirring brain worked out everything that had happened since meeting Elanor. He suddenly understood Sherlock's interest in her, his desire to hook him and Elanor up, his use of a case to do so, his dancing with Elanor on said case, their early morning talks, his insistence on playing the boyfriend this time, his desire to get John's okay for first base, it all made sense now. He felt like a complete dunderhead for not seeing it sooner, but it was Sherlock for god's sake! His head was already swimming with the information he had gotten over the past couple weeks but this, this was just too much for him to handle. Luckily before he could begin to worry about what this meant for him and Elanor, his eyes refocused to see Elanor holding her hand out beseechingly towards him. She had detatched her mouth from Sherlock's and was saying his name softly "John, please."

And then the final puzzle piece slid into place for him. He understood what Sherlock had wanted all along, what Elanor wanted now. And nothing had ever made more sense. There were things that Elanor wanted, that he couldn't give her. Things that she wanted that Sherlock couldn't give her. And John simply wanted peace in the house and happiness for the two people he loved most. It was perfect.

He walked swiftly to Elanor, ignoring Lestrade, who continued to stand stock still, but had slapped a hand over his mouth, and kissed Elanor soundly. "Yes," he said softly, kissing her again, "Yes."


	17. Three's A Party!

Disclaimer: Don't own, not making any money, just for fun!

Chapter 16: The threesome begins! And will likely continue for several chapters...lots of threesome.

The tangled mess that was the three of them somehow made it to a cab eventually. Elanor had given up all pretenses at dignity and straddled Sherlock in the car while her free hand gripped John's hair. She wasn't entirely sure how one was supposed to keep up the pretense of normality in a situation such as this. She was being soundly kissed by the most interesting man she'd ever met, while the love of her life sucked on her neck. She moaned and bucked herself into Sherlock. Only to have him wrench his lips from hers and growl "Eyes on the road." Her mind was in such a haze that it took her a full confused minute to realize that he was talking to the cabbie. And by that time, they were out of the cab, and tumbling their way into 221b. The stairs were tricky. She wound up giggling as Sherlock held her hand and John carried her bridal style up the stairs. She had to resist squirming from the disappointing lack of friction, so that John wouldn't drop her.

But they made it, a stumbling, moaning, wreck, they finally made it into 221b. The moment they were in Sherlock grabbed Elanor from John, turned her around, so she had to wrap her legs around him and pushed her up against the door. His kissing was like it had been in the hall before the case, but his hand were certainly freer. And before long, he began stripping her of her clothing. He pulled down the straps of her dress, undid her bra with out her noticing, and before she knew it she was topless. She groaned and pressed her chest into his, rubbing herself against the textured wool of his jacket.

It was only when she heard a groan from the corner that she remembered John. Seeming to read her mind, Sherlock whispered in her ear, "Let's give him a show shall we?" She smiled and nodded enthusiastically. She dropped her legs from his waist to stand on her own two feet. And still in her heels, and half her dress, walked closer to where John was sitting, palming himself through his pants. "Would you like a show darling?" She asked in her most seductive voice. John swallowed thickly and nodded. She didn't think she'd ever seen him speechless, and it certainly gave her a thrill. She turned back toward Sherlock and winked before shimmying out of the remainder of her dress at a glacially slow pace. She bent to remove her pooled dress from her feet and when she stood Sherlock was at her back.

She relaxed into him and rolled her hips against him. Sherlock trailed his fingers lightly over her torso as she continued to rub against him like she was in heat. She desperately needed friction, so she trailed her hands down, but as she reached the waistband of her panties, Sherlock slapped her hands away. "No," he growled, grabbing her wrists, "I am not John, you will not be getting everything you want. You will receive the friction that you need so very badly," he whispered lowly into her ear, sliding his leg between Elanor's, "When I will it." Elanor shuddered, and shamelessly worked herself against. "You may not touch yourself, not a single erogenous zone, nor mine. And you will get used to this, understood?"

"Yes master." Surprisingly a groan emanated not from Sherlock, but from John.

"I think he's enjoying the show." Elanor looked over to John whose eyes had glazed over as he continued to rub himself slowly. Elanor moaned, she never tired of seeing John coming undone.

"Sir, are you enjoying this?" Elanor asked with false innocence.

John glared at her for taunting him. "Elanor," his jaw ticked, "Remember that Sherlock is not the only dom in the room. I may not be as quick to take such punitive measures, but I will take them if you push me."

"Apologize," Sherlock taunted.

"I'm sorry for baiting you sir."

"Show him you're sorry."

With John's glazed eyes and sitting position, Elanor immediately knew what to do. "Yes master." She knelt and slowly crawled to John.

"That's a good girl," Sherlock murmured lowly, melting back into the shadows for his turn to watch.

Once she reached John she slowly undid the fly on his jeans. He obligingly lifted up for her to pull his pants and his boxers down in one go. Elanor widened her stance and arched her back, fully aware, that this was for Sherlock as much as for John. She looked up at John and batted her eyes as she took one long lick from base to tip. As excited as she was to experiment with Sherlock, John would always be her rock, her love. It was nice to reaffirm that in the midst of all that was new. She licked him again. "I'm sorry sir." Again. "You just looked so," again, "Turned on," again "So hot sitting here," again "My John." At this he smiled and threaded his hands in her hair, and leant down to kiss her.

"I will always be your John. But tonight I am also your dom, you would do best to remember that." She nodded, and in her most submissive voice said "Yes sir," always loving the glimpses she got of what she called Army John. It was the version of John that wasn't about to take any crap from his underlings. And she was almost glad she had taunted him since it meant she got to see it.

"Careful Elanor," she heard Sherlock say warningly from the shadows. God he was like a fucking mind reader. She wasn't going to get away with anything with him, was she? Obedient to her task again, she began to stroke John. After a moment, she sucked his tip into her mouth, earning a double intake of breath from the room. Feeling powerful, she sucked more of John into her mouth. She bobbed up and down as she made turning, pumping motions at the base. She moaned around John knowing what the vibrations would do to him. Sure enough John's hands tightened in her hair and he groaned. She was desperate to hear that groan again, as well as for some friction of her own. But remembering Sherlock's command, she knew he'd be over here in a heartbeat if she tried to touch herself. So she frustratedly pulsed her hips against the empty air. She heard a chuckle from Sherlock at her frustration and wanted to hit him.

Instead she whined, and redoubled her efforts to make Watson cum. Maybe if she showed Sherlock how good she was at this, he would reward her. John groaned as she bobbed up and down on his cock. "God Elanor, so good," he ground out. She continued to pull him in deeper until he was hitting the back of her throat. She smirked to herself she bet Sherlock hadn't deduced this about her, she thought to herself as she swallowed John down. John groaned and had to resist pushing in deeper, and sure enough she heard a sharp intake of breath from behind her. Her internal smile widened as she bobbed up and down on John slowly and deeply. John continued groaning, and Elanor could tell John was getting close. She knew that last little bit he needed. She took him down to the hilt moaned sensually around him and flicked her eyes up to meet him. John groaned "Elanor," and exploded down her throat. Elanor swallowed thickly still looking up obediently, watching John come down from his high breathing deeply. She pulled off him with a pop. "Oh," he huffed out a breath, "Elanor that was-"

"Excellent," Sherlock purred in her ear, kneeling behind her, "Well deserving of a reward." His hands roamed her body, tweaking her nipples and teasing at where she really wanted. She moaned and melted into him, the texture of his suit providing an amazing contrast to the smoothness of Sherlock's hands on her front. "Unh, Sherlock, Sherlock please."

"Such a pretty little beggar," Sherlock growled lowly, his fingers finally dipping where she wanted them. "Ah!" she cried out as Sherlock's long fingers worked their way over her clit. "Mmm," Sherlock moaned, sucking the side of her neck. Elanor felt overwhelmed by the various sensations Sherlock was giving her, his suit, his hands, his lips. She writhed, needing everything faster, harder, "Please, Sherlock," she whimpered. "You know what I want to hear," he grumbled. "Please master," she groaned.

And then Sherlock's fingers were, well let's just say his skills at the violin transferred to other areas. Elanor was a wreck, bucking her hips into Sherlock's capable fingers. "Want some more?" he taunted. "Yes, yes, god, yes, please." Sherlock chuckled darkly, and slowly pushed two fingers into her, pumping slowly, curling, searching out that spot and- he felt her breath hitch. "There it is," he rumbled. He massaged her g-spot while simultaneously rubbing her clit. Elanor felt like she was going to go out of her mind with pleasure.

She heard a groan, above her and looked up to find John jerking off at the display. She'd completely forgotten about John with all the pleasure that Sherlock had been giving her. Not to mention John's legendary recovery rate. She moaned at being shown off and arched her back, pushing out her breasts and threaded her hands into Sherlock's hair. She felt Sherlock smile against her neck, "It seems we have ourselves a little exhibitionist here, John."

John laughed, "Seems like we do. You enjoying this Elanor."

"Yes sir," Elanor replied continuing to writhe on Sherlock's fingers. She could feel herself getting closer. Sherlock must have felt it too, because he sped his fingers up, pulsing them in and out of her. She moaned louder. "Sherlock!" she gasped out. One of her hands came down to clutch his wrist. "Ahn! Ah! Sherlock! John! Oh god I'm gonna-" Sherlock's fingers were merciless, determined to push her over the edge. "Fuck master please, fuck! Aahh!" She gave one final cry and arched shaking against Sherlock as she felt white hot pleasure shoot through every inch of her body. She felt blinded by the sheer pleasure that continued to pulse through her, as she slowly came down from the high. She continued to slowly hump Sherlock's still moving hand. "God, Sherlock that was amazing," she sighed, finally slumping against him. Sherlock removed his fingers and slowly trailed his fingers up her body before popping them in his mouth and groaning. She couldn't see him but she could practically feel his eyes lit up. His posture took on the stiffened stance of his laserlight focus. And Elanor had a feeling she was about to find out what it was like to be the focus of Sherlock's intensity, when he growled out, "More."


	18. Methodical

Disclaimer: I own nothing! I make no money. Still true, don't sue.

A/N: Happy hump day everybody! Celebrate your hump day with some humping! ...anyway. Thanks for putting up with the sporadic updates. They will continue, as I've got three fics going, because I have no self control :)

Chapter ...what are we on...17? Imma say 17.

Chapter 17: Sherlock is unsurprisingly methodical. It is surprisingly sexy. And thank god for John.

Before she had time to process, Sherlock had her flat on her back on the floor. She looked up to see Sherlock still in his fucking suit, crouched over her lower half like a cat ready to pounce. His electric blue eyes were trained on her, darting quickly from one area to the next. She'd been naked in front of John and other men tons of times, but she'd never felt so exposed. She whimpered, her hands clutching uselessly around air, wanting to touch Sherlock desperately. He however continued to examine her, without touching, and made no response to her whimpering save a slight quirk of his mouth. She could hear John breathing heavily in the background. She glanced over, he was still palming himself, but had slowed his pace considerably.  
Her attention was drawn back to Sherlock when he drew her legs apart slowly. Elanor bit her lip, trying so hard to let Sherlock be utterly in control. She wanted so badly to grab that head of curls and pull him right where she wanted. But she knew what Sherlock's reaction to that would be. So she bit her lip, clenched her hands, and sat statue still like a good girl. She felt herself heat up as Sherlock finally drew her legs all the way apart, and gazed intently at her most intimate place. She had no clue what Sherlock was seeing, but apparently it took a while. After what felt like hours he finally started to touch her.  
At first she thought it would be a relief. She thought Sherlock was finally going to give her what she wanted. She was so very wrong. He started at her neck, tracing patterns with varying pressure down to her collar bones. Elanor's breathing was uneven, and she felt as though she was going to fly apart from the sheer force of frustration. She bit back another whine, and couldn't stop her hips' stuttering roll. He then continued at an agonizingly slow pace down her arms, over her breasts and stomach. Elanor couldn't stop the begging "Please," from falling from her lips. She bucked her hips and buried her fingers in Sherlock's hair. Sherlock startled out of his observation mode flicked his eyes up to Elanor and coldly removed her hands from his hair. "No, Elanor," he replied calmly and lowly, "Stay still." And that was all he said before returning to mapping her reactions again. He hit a particularly sensitive spot on her stomach with just the right pressure and she squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering, and almost crying with the concentration needed to stay still under Sherlock's ministrations.  
John, seeing Elanor's level of frustration and not blaming her, tucked himself back into his pants and went to sit cross legged above her. He took her hands in his and held them above her head. "Shh, shh you're doing so well Elanor. I know he can be difficult. But you're being such a good girl." Elanor sighed, feeling a lot of the tension leave her at John's steadying presence. It was amazing how calming the simple feeling of his hands were. "Take a deep breath Elanor." She breathed in slowly, melting into the safeness of John's voice. "And out." With some of the edge taken off, she was able to appreciate the intricate, searching designs that Sherlock was tracing into her skin. He had reached her hips and was finding spots that made her shiver over and over. "Shh, shh, it's all right. You're halfway there. You'll get what you need. And he's going to make it so good, you just have to be patient." Sherlock's hands and John's voice worked her over and left her a trembling wreck. "I can't. I can't." she groaned. "You can, c'mon just a little bit further." Sherlock swept his thumb along the curve of the back of her knee, causing her to moan and buck. "Please, please, please," she moaned.  
John laid down along side her and cupped her face in his hands. "Look at me right here. You can do this." He leaned in and kissed her gently. Well at least he tried to make it gentle, Elanor's out of control lust had morphed it into a hot make out session within seconds. She clutched his hair and poured all of her pent up frustration into Watson. Distantly she heard Sherlock growl frustratedly and reset her hips which had turned almost entirely towards Watson. She was too far gone to notice, but Watson obligingly repositioned his upper half over Elanor's so that she laid flat and open to Sherlock, who had reached Elanor's ankles.  
Elanor felt as though she was on fire. After everything they'd done the simple act of making out with Watson was still one of her favorites. She loved the way John tasted, how he groaned into her mouth. In fact she had gotten so lost in the act that she didn't notice Sherlock opening her legs again. So when he started tracing her outer lips in the same frustratingly exact manner that he had her whole body, she was taken entirely by surprise. She jumped and her teeth clacked against John's. John pulled back and looked down to find Sherlock gazing intently at Elanor's pussy, his fingers moving restlessly over her most sensitive place.  
Elanor tipped her head back, exposing the long column of her throat and moaned deeply. John chuckled. "Looks like your ship has come in." Elanor just moaned again. Sherlock's fingers were so close and yet so far. She gripped John's cropped hair tightly, and writhed. Finally, Sherlock parted her lips and began to explore. After thoroughly learning her inner labia. He inserted one finger inside of her and crooked it, moving slowly, until he found the edges of her g-spot and circled around it. "Please, please, please!" she begged shamelessly. Sherlock finally acquiesced and rubbed his finger lightly against her g-spot. She sucked in a breath and held it, as he slowly increased the pressure of his rubbing until he hit just the right amount, and Elanor clawed John yelling "Sherlock, oh god, oh god, oh god." Having correctly mapped that part of her, Sherlock withdrew his fingers.  
Initially Elanor was disappointed, until Sherlock moved his attention to her clit. If she thought his light tracing was frustrating on other parts of her body, it was absolutely maddening on her clit. "Oh god," she whimpered, her voice pitching up. Sherlock used his index finger to draw increasingly firmer circles on her clit. What started off as feather light finally worked up to a steady pressure that had Elanor gasping for air and moaning out John and Sherlock's names. Then all of a sudden everything stopped. "Nooo," Elanor groaned pitifully. She couldn't stand any more frustration.  
Sherlock quirked a brow from between Elanor's legs. "John would you please restrain Elanor's wrists."  
John sighed, "I really don't think she can take any more, Sherlock."  
"I assure you more teasing was not what I had in mind."  
John sighed again, moving back up to hold Elanor's wrists. "All right, Sherlock. But if you fuck with her I'm stepping in."  
Sherlock grinned "Noted." He pushed her legs wider. "Elanor keep your legs here, understood?"  
Elanor nodded, spreading her legs wide and canting her hips up towards Sherlock. Sherlock smiled at her need, before flicking his eyes back up to hers and winking, "Good girl." And then he was there. Right where she needed him. He had his mouth against her opening, his tongue curling into her. One hand worried her clit, tracing circles at just the right pressure, while his free hand trace a soft spot he'd found at the back of knee. Elanor moaned loudly and pressed her wrists into John's restraining hands, awash with the sudden barrage of sensation after so much teasing.  
Sherlock ate her out avidly, pushing his tongue into her, and reveling in her sweetness. He slowly picked up the pace on her clit, giving Elanor exactly what she needed. Sherlock's observation wasn't for nothing. He knew just where to press, with how much pressure, and for how long. After just 30 minutes of observation he knew her body better than she did herself. His free hand moved up to another sensitive spot he'd found on her inner thigh. Elanor moaned and bucked. "Sherlock," she yelled feeling herself speeding towards a quick climax after so much teasing. Sherlock growled into her. The vibrations caused a shiver to wrack Elanor's body.  
After another few moments, Sherlock moved his mouth up to Elanor's clit and pushed two fingers slowly into her. His tongue lapped at her rapidly, as his fingers took a much slower, toe curling pace. Elanor felt the heat spreading through her body. She pushed her wrists into Watson's firm grip, desperate to clutch Sherlock's curls. But John wasn't giving in, and neither was Sherlock. He continued the steady rhythm of his fingers, and tongue, even as Elanor bucked and writhed. He looped one arm under her thigh and pressed a hand to her hip to hold her steady, before attacking with renewed vigor. Elanor didn't think somebody's tongue could move that fast, and he now had three fingers stuffed inside her moving restlessly against her g-spot. "Aaaah!" Elanor cried out. "Oh god, oh god, oh god. Oh my god, Sherlock, oh my god, Master. Please, please, please gonna cum, gonna, cum!" Her breath stuttered, and her knees drew up as she felt everything white out, just before cumming. She let out a loud, long moan, every inch of her body arching and clenching as she rode out her orgasm on Sherlock's tongue. Somewhere in the middle of the blinding pleasure that was her orgasm, Sherlock removed his fingers and replaced it with his tongue. So Elanor came around to a grunting Sherlock, frantically licking up the juices that threatened to spill from her. Above her she heard a breathless, "Fuck that was hot."


End file.
